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#you look away for a second and next thing you know they're gone
sukunasweetheart · 2 days
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Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.
A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.
You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.
"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.
Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?
"No thanks."
"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."
He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.
"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"
You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.
"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."
What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.
"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.
"Today is supposed to be my birthday."
Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.
"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"
"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."
"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."
Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.
He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.
Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.
For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.
His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.
"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.
"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"
You also hand him a different small item.
"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."
He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.
"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.
"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."
And then you leave him after a quick wave.
Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.
The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.
-
Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.
At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.
Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.
He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.
There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.
Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.
You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.
You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.
He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.
Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.
"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"
"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."
"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.
Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.
"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.
"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."
"Origami, huh? How original."
"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."
"You got a lot of people signed up?"
"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."
You smile up at him hopefully.
"...is the offer still open?"
You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.
"You know. Lessons for grown adults."
"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"
"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. Let’s go."
Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.
You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.
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Nights of Endless Love Part 26
A fic set in Vegas in 1971 at the start of Elvis' first residency that year, where he meets a Vegas showgirl who isn't interested. Smutty, fluffy, angsty drama.
To catch up with the other parts, go here. As always, thanks go to @vintagepresley for the idea in the first place and continued inspo! And many thanks to @eapep for her editing skills!
18 and over only.
Pairing: Elvis + OC - Mia, a Vegas showgirl
Wordcount: 3.3K ish
TW: Drug abuse, health issues, angry!Elvis, a little bit of violence, crying, oral (f receiving), then much fluff.
A/N: This is the final part! I fully sobbed when I finished writing this. It's been a real labour of love and I will miss Mia and Elvis and their little world. Not to say that we might not go back and see how they're doing from time to time, but for now this is the end of their story.
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“I’m so tired. Elvis this schedule is impossible.” Mia collapses down onto the sofa, still in her stage outfit. They’re more than half way through the stint in Tahoe, and she only has a two hour break before she’s due back on stage again. Things have got worse since she started going on with him to do a song or two in the middle of his set. 
“It’s not impossible. You just need one of these shots,” he looks over to Dr Nick. “Nick, give her a shot.”
Dr Nick moves warily over to Mia. She pulls a face and puts her hand out to stop him. “Dr Nick do not give her a shot. She has autonomy over her own body.”
Elvis is standing over the other side of the room, still in his jumpsuit, sodden with sweat. One of his legs is jiggling about and he's fiddling incessantly with one of his big rings. Two of the tell-tale signs that Nick had been in here giving him a shot before the second show. As if she didn’t know already.
“Well don’t blame me if you can’t hack it.”
Mia stands up, annoyed now. “If I can’t hack it? You’re the one taking enough pharmaceuticals to floor an elephant.”
Dr Nick moves from foot to foot awkwardly. Mia wasn’t often in the room when he was treating Elvis, but he’d already got the impression she wasn’t keen on all of the drugs. He isn’t keen on all of the drugs either, but Elvis will only find someone else if he stops prescribing. He’s never seen them fight before, and he would like to get out before it turns nasty. He knows Elvis has a temper.
Elvis starts moving towards her in that ominous way he has, his lip curling, blowing furious air out of his nose. “I need them. This is none of your damn business woman.”
“None of my business! I’m only living with you and engaged to marry you!”
“Well maybe you need to learn to do as you’re told.” He grabs one of her arms and starts trying to manoeuvre her towards Nick, who is looking quite alarmed by this point. Mia wriggles and tries to get him off her. She sees his other hand coming to grab her and aims a kick at one of his shins. “Ow!” He almost shrieks. She uses the opportunity to pull her arm free and then slaps him across the face for good measure.
“You are not the boss of me!” She screams.
“You come back here,” he hisses as she stands, panting in front of him. 
She thinks that she hasn’t actually gone anywhere and he could grab her from here if he really wanted to.
“I’m not having a damn shot, Elvis. I’m sick of seeing you take all this stuff. I’m sick of waking up in the night and checking if you’re still breathing. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time. I want you to rest,” she finds herself faltering, holding back tears. “I love you.”
He closes the gap between them, and for a moment she can’t tell if he’s going to kiss her or hit her. He pushes her the few steps back it takes to hit the wall, and then his mouth is on hers, his tongue pushing insistently into her mouth, his hands grabbing her arms and pressing them against the wall next to her head. Somewhere that sounds like a million miles away she hears the clunk of the door. Nick must’ve finally had enough.
“Baby I love you too,” he says, when he finally comes up for air. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
He starts slowly unzipping her catsuit, kissing her newly exposed skin as he goes. He stops briefly to pay her nipples some attention, but it’s clear where he’s headed, as he presses kisses to her stomach and slides the zipper down all of the way to where it finishes between her legs. She gasps when he first licks her clit, firmly and repeatedly, looking down to see him on his knees in front of her, worshipfully. His tongue dips down lower, tasting her properly, his lips and chin slick with her juices. She whines, desperate for more contact.
“Put your leg on my shoulder baby,” he says, the words buzzing against her.
She does, feeling his fingers spreading her cunt so he can better access it, lapping at her, pushing his tongue inside. His thumb moves to rub her clit as he carries on licking, the fingers of his other hand digging into the skin of her thigh and ass. She moans, grabbing her breasts and rubbing her nipples. She’s so turned on even just at the sight of him kneeling in front of her like this, burying his face in her cunt, licking and sucking like his life depends on it.
He moves to suck on her clit now, looking up at her as he does it, his hair soaked with sweat from the show earlier and her arousal all over his face. He slides a finger inside her and curls it slightly, waiting to hear her reaction. She groans, feeling him hit that spot inside of her and wriggling to try and get more contact from his tongue.
“Hold my head Mimi. Do whatever you want with me.”
She shivers at the words. She loves it when he tells her to use him like this. 
“Another finger…please,” she just about manages.
He nods and slips a second finger inside her.
She reaches down and takes hold of his head, fingers digging into his damp hair. She starts to roll her hips so that her clit rubs against his tongue, holding onto him gently and then as the pleasure starts to build she finds herself gripping him desperately, pushing her cunt into his face, not really caring anymore if he can breathe. She’s so close now, all she can think of is reaching that high. As her orgasm washes over her she grips his head even more tightly, crying out and feeling tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes and cries, finally letting him go and sliding down the wall, somehow getting her leg off his shoulder and ending up sitting in a little pile at the bottom of it.
“Fuck, honey.” Elvis is beet red, and he’s taking great gasping breaths.
She looks over at him, and realises she might’ve actually been suffocating him. “Oh shit. Are you alright?”
“Honey. You’re crying.” 
Mia laughs, even though she’s still crying. “I’m crying, you’re nearly suffocated, this is all going great.”
He moves to try and kiss her and she holds her hands up in front of her face. “Ahh. Wash your face!”
He laughs and grabs her arms, pinning them to her sides. “No,” he replies, kissing her on the mouth. She can feel the slickness of his lips, covered in her juices, and taste herself on his tongue. “If you’re going to smother me the least you can do is kiss me afterwards.”
She laughs, and then he pulls her into his arms, leaning against the wall himself. “Baby why were you crying? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I just felt overwhelmed. I love you so much and I really want this to work, but it’s just fucking exhausting. I’m sorry I nearly killed you.”
He chuckles into her ear. “It’s okay, I asked for it. In more ways than one. And I love it when you’re so uninhibited like that, especially all over my face.”
She squeals. It smells like sex and sweat all around her. They really need to shower before the next show.
He nuzzles her neck. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have got mad at you. You’re right, we can’t carry on like this. But I don’t know what else to do.”
***
They somehow finish the Tahoe commitment but tell Jerry and the Colonel that there’s no way they can keep up that level of work. It was what they’d suspected would happen, and although the Colonel has his views on how many shows Elvis and Mia should do, for once he keeps his mouth shut. Jerry has been a good influence on him from that perspective. He’s learning how to diversify, has even thought of taking on one or two more clients. Jerry suggests one show a night is more reasonable, tours could be longer but there would be more gaps between dates and fewer residencies. Mia and Elvis both agree, and leave the meeting somewhat relieved. 
Mia knows the amount of shows isn’t the only problem though, and so she decides to broach something with Elvis as she watches him rubbing his belly and grimacing.
“What do you think about checking yourself into a hospital?”
Elvis almost jumps. “What? There’s nothing wrong with me!”
Mia puts her hand on top of his. “You’re not in any pain just now?”
He sighs. “Okay, but… hospital?”
“Please. For me. I’ll stay in there with you. We can order in whatever food you want. But I think you need to go and get checked out, and… maybe you need to come off some of what you’ve been taking.” 
She’s very nervous about the last part of the sentence. He’s never taken interference in the drugs he takes very well in the past. She had thought she wouldn’t interfere in that part of his life, but the shows at Tahoe showed her that she had to. She watches his face twist into a variety of different expressions, as if he’s having a not-very-internal battle with himself. 
“You’ll stay with me the whole time? Even if they want to do things to me? Look for stuff? You’ll be there? You promise?” He’s starting to sound a little panicked, but it seems like the agreeable Elvis has won this time. 
“Yes. I won’t let them throw me out of the room. I’ll be there with you the whole time I promise.”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay then.”
***
Mia keeps her word. They check into the hospital together and she’s there holding his hand as they do blood tests, check his blood pressure, put drops in his eyes. When they tell him he needs a colonoscopy he looks at her and she tells him it will be okay and she will hold his hands and talk to him the whole time. He nods like a frightened child but does whatever she says. They slowly take him off the complicated mixture of pharmaceuticals he’s been taking since he was in the army, working out exactly what he needs rather than what he wants. Mia stays up a lot of the nights, lying in the bed with him, stroking his hair and wiping his brow as he sweats and twists and turns uncomfortably in his sleep. With the best will in the world, his withdrawal is still horrible and he begs her to let him take something for it, crying in her arms. 
A week after they first got there, he’s sat up in bed as she lays dozing after another tumultuous night. 
“Hi there.” A voice Mia can’t quite place, deep and sonorous. She tries to ignore it, but Elvis’ response makes that impossible.
“Lawrence! It’s been so long!” 
Elvis is feeling good for the first time since he checked into the hospital, and seeing Larry has made him genuinely excited, dropping the book he was reading and sitting up properly in bed. All of this jostles Mia so much she sits up again with a groan. 
“How’re you doing, man?” Larry asks, sitting down on the armchair in the room. 
“Great. So much better. They’ve taken me off a lot of things and… I do feel good for a change, Larry. They’re bringing me all these fresh fruits and vegetables and Mia is helping me decide which ones I like.”
He looks over at Mia, whose hair is absolutely everywhere, eyes barely open, looking like she needs to sleep for a week. He strokes her face. “Baby, why don’t you go to the room across the hall and get some proper sleep?”
The hospital staff had reserved them another room in case Mia wanted to sleep somewhere separately sometimes, but she hasn’t left his side for the whole week. 
“You sure?” She replies, groggily. 
“Of course, Angel. Larry can keep me company for a while and you look like you need to sleep somewhere comfy.”
She nods and shuffles off across the corridor. 
“I hear you’re getting married?”
Elvis grins. “Yeah. When the divorce is finalised with Cilla, we certainly are.”
“I’m so pleased for you Elvis. Things really seem to be turning out well lately.”
Elvis is beaming. Things were turning out well. He has an idea to make them even better. “Say, you wanna be my best man?”
Larry is taken aback. They hadn’t been in touch much recently, a hair cut here and there and a few chats, but nothing like the intensity of their relationship previously. He’d been wondering if they were just drifting apart. 
“I’d be honoured!”
Elvis reaches across to shake the other man’s hand, firmly. “Wonderful. I’m sure Mia will be pleased too.”
***
Mia had never thought she’d be so nervous on her wedding day. What is there to be nervous about? Fluffing up the words? Tripping over her dress and falling on her face? Actually, both of those seem like pretty bad options. She smooths her dress down and looks at herself in the mirror. Life on the road hasn’t exactly stopped the ageing process. If anything, it’s accelerated it. She had her grey hairs dyed back to brown in readiness for today, there’s a lot of strong elastic holding her not-so-little belly in and a face full of make-up hides her tired eyes and wrinkles. But she finds somehow that she doesn’t mind so much any more. Elvis’ hair is still white and he is completely unapologetic about it. He gets his reading glasses out when he needs to and he ignores the jibes from the guys. They worship one another’s bodies, no matter whether they find wrinkles or extra fat there. Elvis is particularly delighted by the fact that she’s put on a little extra weight on her ass, kissing and kneading it at every opportunity. Every morning he tells her how beautiful she is, or sings Mia In The Morning, no matter how many times she hits him with a pillow and tells him to shut up. The tests at the hospital showed that he has a problem with his intestine that makes his belly swell from time to time, and Mia makes sure to show him how much she loves him whenever it happens. He’s given up trying to push her away when she pushes his shirt up and kisses him all over. In fact, he almost looks forward to it.
Mia smiles at her reflection. It had been one helluva year. When she’d started 1971, performing on that stage in the Tropicana, she had no idea things would turn out like this. That she’d be getting ready to marry one of the most famous men in the world. That she’d be so in love with him.
“You ready?” Amanda asks. Mia had to spend an entire drunken day catching her up on everything that had happened over the past couple of months, but she was the only person she wanted as her maid of honour. 
“As I’ll ever be.”
Her dad walks into the room, blinking back tears at how beautiful she looks in her dress. 
“Time to go, pumpkin?”
Mia nods and takes his arm. Elvis had encouraged her to get back in contact with her parents, so she’d invited them to the show when they visited her hometown. She was surprised when they came, and even more surprised how proud they were of her. She suspects it has something to do with Elvis, who put on the world’s biggest charm-offensive when he met them, and who of course they loved instantly. Her dad was over the moon when she asked him to give her away at the wedding. 
She can feel herself shaking as they walk slowly down the aisle to meet the man standing at the end of it. Elvis is shaking too, he’s asked Larry approximately 15 times already whether he still has the rings, and until he saw her for himself a few moments ago, he had completely convinced himself that Mia wasn’t coming. The walk is interminable for both of them, Elvis sweating and worrying about stuttering his vows and Mia concentrating on not falling over her own dress. When she finally gets there and they turn to face one another, holding each other’s hands tightly, they both let out shaky breaths. And then they realise what they’ve done and both giggle. It’s like the rest of the world completely disappears when they look at one another. Until, that is, the celebrant starts to speak. 
“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Elvis and Mia, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”
Despite their fears, the ceremony goes smoothly. Larry hands over the rings. No-one declares a reason they can’t get married, and neither of them mess up their vows. Elvis stutters a little but it just makes Mia love him more, if that were possible. They kiss passionately when they’re told they’re now man and wife, and little Lisa-Marie is the first person to start throwing confetti. Mia briefly wonders if it’s odd to have your husband’s ex-wife as one of your bridesmaids, but then decides she doesn’t care. Priscilla is still such a good friend to her, she’d even helped to pick out Mia’s dress. 
The party that follows goes on well into the night. It starts with a first dance to actual Jackie Wilson performing (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher, and sometime around midnight Mia finds herself still in her wedding dress, trying to teach Red West how to rumba. 
“Never thought you’d last, you know.” He says into her ear as she tries in vain to get him to stop standing on her feet. 
“Oh really?” She laughs back, pushing his hip with hers. 
“No. Thought he’d have enough of you being so bossy.”
“You should be concentrating or you won’t get any better.”
Red looks up at her. “I’m not really trying to get better, I’m enjoying you manhandling me if I’m honest.”
Mia bursts out laughing, shoving him back and away from her. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”
“You’ll tell your husband he said, what?” 
Elvis is suddenly behind her, his arms around her waist. She leans back against him and smirks. “Red West is trying to get close to me, husband.”
“Oh, is that so, wife?”
“Hmm yes. But I wouldn’t worry about him, I’m not interested.” She spins around in his arms and puts hers around his neck. “I just feel sorry for him.”
Elvis looks up at her and chuckles, humming with pleasure as she leans her forehead down against his. “He is pathetic, you’re right.”
Red rolls his eyes and huffs, wandering off to find someone else to annoy. 
“How is my beautiful wife?” Elvis asks her as they sway back and forth to the music. 
“I’ve never been better. How is my handsome husband?”
“I’ve never been happier. Today has been perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I can’t wait either, lover.”
The band starts playing From A Jack To A King.
From a Jack to a King / From loneliness to a wedding ring / I played an Ace and I won a Queen / And walked away with your heart
***
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to-proudly-go · 10 months
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Obikin fic WIP snippet
(Deaged!Obi-Wan au)
*******
“He was reporting to us about a strange phenomenon that he experienced in Ilum while escorting the new Padawans for the choosing of their kyber crystals,” Master Plo Koon started, and Anakin turned to him at his words. Obi-Wan didn’t like that and smacked Anakin's cheeks with his chubby hands for attention. Incoherent babble accompanied the painless hits. Anakin gently guided the wayward limbs away from his face and kissed the palms of Obi-Wan’s hands, unable to help himself. Obi-Wan seemed appeased by that and settled down, smushing his face into the crook between Anakin’s shoulder and neck.
Anakin looked up again at Plo Koon and found the gathered Masters hiding smiles behind their hands, and in Windu’s case, trying to calm the pulsating vein at his temple down. Ahsoka was grinning at him knowingly from behind Plo Koon.
He felt his face burning. “What was the phenomenon, specifically?” he ground out, desperately hoping that they’d turn their attention away from the blatant display of affection.
******
Yeahhh so I know I said I don't write plot but inspiration struck and I wrote 2.3k words in a frenzy. It's far from finished and I'm still mulling over on what direction to take this but yeah I think I'm gonna enjoy writing 2-year-old baby shenanigans 🥹
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aemondsbabe · 11 months
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Taunt
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obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!
summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.
pairing: michael gavey x reader
warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 10.5k (dear lord)
a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)
PRAISE | Taunt Part 2
MAKING AMENDS | Bonus
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟
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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 
A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 
“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”
“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”
“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 
He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 
You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 
It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 
His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.
You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 
“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 
“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”
“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”
Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 
“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”
“And how would you go about doing that?”
“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 
“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 
Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 
“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.
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Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”
Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 
“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 
“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 
“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 
Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 
As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 
“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”
“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 
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“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.
“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 
You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”
“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 
“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”
You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 
Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”
“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”
“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”
“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 
“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 
The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 
“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.
“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 
The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”
“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 
“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.
“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.
“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 
His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”
You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”
Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 
You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.
“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”
The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 
“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.
He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 
You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 
But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.
“But I’m bus–”
“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 
“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 
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Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 
Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.
“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 
You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.
“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 
“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 
“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 
Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”
“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”
“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 
You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 
“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 
“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 
“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”
You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.
Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.
Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”
“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 
“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”
“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 
The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”
You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?
“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 
He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 
“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 
His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”
“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”
“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 
Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”
“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 
You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 
Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 
He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 
See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.
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It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 
“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 
“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 
“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 
You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 
“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 
“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 
“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 
He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”
“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 
He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 
You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 
He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 
“Do you?” 
“Fine, yes.” 
“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 
You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 
You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 
A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 
“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 
“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 
“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 
You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”
“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 
“You.” It comes out as a breath. 
He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 
Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 
He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 
“None?” 
“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 
“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 
“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 
Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 
He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 
You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 
“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”
“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 
“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 
You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 
“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 
You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 
“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 
“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 
He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.
Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 
“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 
You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.
You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 
“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”
You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 
You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 
“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 
You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 
“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”
You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 
“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 
His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 
Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 
You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 
Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 
“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 
“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 
You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 
“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 
“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 
“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”
“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”
“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”
“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”
You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 
“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”
You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.
“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 
You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 
You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 
You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 
“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 
“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”
At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 
He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”
The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 
“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 
You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 
Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 
“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 
Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 
He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 
His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 
“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 
“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 
“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 
“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 
“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.
“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.
He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”
“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”
“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.
Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 
The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 
You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.
“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 
You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 
You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”
You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.
He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 
You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 
“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”
“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”
“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”
“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”
Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 
“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.
“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”
His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 
Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.
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tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot
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mooncleaver · 27 days
Text
Love Is The Reason
ღ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, familial fushiguro megumi x fem!reader
ღ warnings: MAJOR JJK268 SPOILERS. pls don't read if you don't wanna know!! slightly cannon divergent
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What the hell.
His ears didn't stop ringing as he brought his body up from its position on the surprisingly soft surface, feeling every ache known to man throbbing all over. Megumi felt the cosmic numbness ebbing away like a flash, and suddenly, he could discern the warm cotton wrapped around his upper body along with the linen sheets that lay beneath him. The three—out of many—scars on his face pulled his skin tautly, so close to his eyes where that devil's face wore his for however long this limbo period was. It hurt to open his eyes. Well, it hurt to do anything, but he's thankful that he can see the world through his own view.
Megumi's ears perk up to the sound of poorly attempted hushed arguments. The sound was so familiar that for once in his life, he felt relieved to hear it. To feel that irritation ticking in his chest, the mindless crease that's fully starting to make itself known on his forehead, and that growing scowl—he could truly cry at the return of bodily autonomy.
Nobara was trying to fit herself inside a present-shaped cardboard box while Yuji stood next to the thing, pushing down the lid on top of her head, which ruffled the strands like crazy. Of course, the girl would not stand for this butchering of her beauty. She spent a lot of time trying to look presentable, not that this pink-haired fool would understand.
Megumi is hit with a deep sense of dejavu as he sits up against the headboard, looking back at the memory of Gojo doing the same exact surprise tactic to announce that Yuji was, in fact, not dead after his literal heart got ripped out of his chest. The boy can feel a smile forming on his lips, and he makes no move to try and stop it.
"What are you two doing?"
He sees Yuji and Nobara freeze in their spots, both eyes widening comically. A second passes before the two let go of whatever it was they were contending about, rushing forward to stick their faces into Megumi's. The former vessel looks—well, he looks like he's had better days. He's thankfully clean of all the blood oozing out of his skin when he fought Sukuna for the last time, his usual uniform with the red hoodie looking incredibly pristine, absent of any rips or blood. Still, some are sticking onto his face, notably a darker shade cutting down across his eyebrows as the dried blood clings onto his wounds. Nobara looks happier. God, he thought she died. He was ready to mourn her with all the losses he'd suffered, but for once, Megumi was glad to hear her voice. He welcomes it. She's wearing a black eyepatch on top of the eye that she lost fighting Mahito, and her uniform is equally as clean as Yuji's—Megumi can tell that she's relieved by that fact.
Finally, they're back together again. The trio of first years with lost dreams who've gone through horrible, terrible things now have found hope again—hope that never died within each other.
"Fushiguro!!" The two yell in unison, going in to hug him despite knowing he didn't usually like that kind of thing. But to their honest surprise, Megumi returned the gesture, fully and truly, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. Yuuji and Nobara didn't hesitate to tighten their arms around the spiky-haired boy, be damned the near-death exhaustion clinging to their bones. They may be battered and bruised, but they survived.
After a quiet moment, the momentum was back again as Nobara looked at the two boys with a disgruntled expression, her exaggerated self on display at the lack of reaction to her return. "You know, the class's Madonna, who everyone thought was dead, by the way, turned out to be alive?! You two should be either wetting yourself or crying with joy!"
Megumi didn't even bat an eye, unlike Yuji, who was scrambling out of his mind, replying to her in his usual stoic and flat voice. "I see. My bad."
"So, the bastard is dead then." The Fushiguro didn't phrase that like a question, more so stating a fact. The fact that he was here in his own body, alive and breathing, undoubtedly meant that the curse was dead. It was still surreal to utter, knowing that this was the one thing they'd all been fighting for since forever. Maybe now, everyone who was gone didn't die in vain.
Nobara sounded like she was still in disbelief, shaking her head slightly while she grinned and exclaimed, "Ha! Yeah! Itadori beasted that guy like it was a piece of cake!"
"Eh.. well, it was pretty tough, I'm not gonna lie. I cried a little when resonance was hit." Yuji himself could only scratch the back of his neck at the rare praise, his eyes crinkling into thin lines as he admitted his own emotions. It was kind of daunting to be the one who killed Sukuna with the fact that he used to be the curse's vessel. But out of everything, making that final blow was something he didn't once hesitate on. Yuji was going to finish all this madness. It all started with him and ended with him—the way it should be.
Megumi didn't sound too surprised at the boy's admission, only giving him a look in response. "I know. I saw everything happening inside Sukuna."
"Ugh... don't even remind me. Well, at least you two have the shared experience of being a vessel now." Well, no matter how sour the fact was, it was true.
Breaking his thoughts, Yuji suddenly lit up as he shifted through his pants pockets, haphazardly pulling out the crumpled pieces of paper in his hand. "Oh, wait, guys. I have something for you two. It's from Gojo-sensei. Gojo-san, too, I think."
The pink-haired boy grew incredibly sullen at the mention of both his teachers. He'd miss calling out to the two Gojo's, mixing the couple up despite your previous urgings to the students of simply calling you by your first name. Of course, your husband would not absolutely have that, sneakily going behind your back and basically forcing his students to call you Gojo, too. If he couldn't get the second years to follow, he'd make his own kids do it. The man would not pass on the chance of hearing people call you by your shared last name.
"A letter.." Megumi looked shocked at the fact. His sensei (and self-proclaimed dad who stepped up) never did this kind of thing—seriously, that is.
Growing up with Gojo and his wife, Megumi knew the white-haired sorcerer never strayed away from being lighthearted and childlike. Despite witnessing the lanky heir change from the bratty 18-year-old who approached him as a child in the streets into the mature, married man he was the last time, it just wasn't in his nature to be doing some sentimental things like this. That was more like something you'd do. From the daily lunch notes, deep-meaning gifts (that he still kept to this day), and the affectionate texts you'd always send, he would wager that you might've been the one to drag your husband to write the letters. But, knowing that Gojo probably had a feeling that he wouldn't make it out of the fight, it's not impossible that this truly came from him.
Nobara chuckled at his tone of voice, silently agreeing with his disbelief. Gojo was definitely not the type to do this.. it unsettled her.
"I feel you.. this is totally not like him. It's slightly gross to even imagine him writing letters.."
Though, after reading, she crushed the piece of paper in her hand, pursing her lips. Yuji noticed this, facing her to ask what it said. With slight hesitation, Nobara revealed that it contained information about her mother's whereabouts. To be honest, she wasn't sure how to feel. Some part of her still longed to feel her love.
"Oh, did you even want to know in the first place?"
She shook her head as she looked down, leaving no room for the topic to be continued. "Not at all."
Suddenly, they heard the very, very rare sound of Megumi's laughter ringing out from the bed. Gojo would've bawled knowing he made his son laugh. It took a moment for them to snap out of the shock, seeing the fresh face of their friend's smile. He looked like a brand new person—content, young and carefree. It was refreshing.
Megumi hasn't felt this happy in a long while. He expected that the message wouldn't be some deep, meaningful thing, but out of everything, it was a joke about how he killed his biological dad. He wasn't sad, surprisingly. Megumi never really knew the man that left him and his sister to fend for themselves, and the memories he had of him weren't great. At least he found some closure. The boy shook his head, reading the familiar and large handwriting of his father figure. You'd think that it'd be messy, but as the former heir of the Gojo clan, Satoru was a trained guy in the art of handwriting. He wouldn't be caught dead with scribbles.
Unfortunately your father isn't around anymore!! Cuz I killed him!! Sowwy!! :P
Short, simple, and kind of foolish.
He bit back a grin. Even in death, the man couldn't take anything seriously.
Beneath it was a softer and more serious note. From you, of course. Megumi did not doubt that you wrote this to make up for your husband's short message, writing a heartfelt one that he could sense even before reading. The two of you must've known that this was not a fight you would come out of. And as much as that hurt him, Megumi was glad that he was in your last thoughts. It meant a lot to know that you and Gojo believed he, Nobara, and Yuji would live through everything.
Firstly, don't take this idiot too seriously. If you're reading this megs, we're probably gone, but hey, you're okay! Live your life fully okay? Don't forget that you're still a kid in the end. We're always looking out for you, sweetheart. ♡
There was a chibi doodle in the bottom and a sweet greeting that said,
— Love you beyond infinity, mom & dad
Megumi could tell that this was Gojo's handwriting. It was meant as a joke (the boy didn't call Satoru dad very often, despite calling you mom. It was kinda cringe.) but he accepted that sincerely. You two were his parents, biological or not. He loves you so much.
And he'd promise that for you. For Satoru, too, to be honest. To live life fully. Ever since he knew what living meant, he never intended to live a proper life. The absence of his biological father and the death of his mother left an untreated wound in his heart, altering his mind in a way that left him isolated—a recluse from the world, almost. The only thing that used to keep him going was his sister, Tsumiki. Now she is really gone. But then, everything shifted when he first saw Gojo Satoru.
It was a big change to have people to look up to. To have a mother. Megumi called you mom way before he even considered Satoru as his father figure, and it was one of the most precious things in life. You never took that for granted, always spoiling him and treating him like he came from your own womb. You knew you'd never take the place of his biological mother, but you wanted to be someone the boy could rely on in such a cruel world. It was a bit strange when Satoru first brought up the idea of raising the Fushiguro boy. You were both still 18, barely even adults with so much pressure and responsibilities. But you knew, from the moment you saw this poor boy getting dragged home by your boyfriend, that you'd love him like no other.
You and Satoru gave him and Tsumiki a home. An unlikely one, but a home nonetheless. You gave him a love like no other, an unconditional, wholehearted, and absolute kind of love, even when the two of you were struggling. It was a type that couldn't be described by words and only felt. That, along with the friendship and true family he found within Nobara and Yuji, made him realize that even if he didn't live his life for himself, there were others in the world. Other people, whether that'd be a mother, a father, a sister, or a brother could give everything meaning. A reason to keep going.
At first, he only lived for Tsumiki. To use everything he had to save her. But then he found himself living for you, for Satoru, for Nobara and Yuji. Once more, he would try again. This wasn't a chance he'd take for granted.
Reading the note made Megumi feel a kind of warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. The kind that he last felt when you hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead before everything in Shibuya happened. That was probably the last time he saw you happy and alive. The world was dull when you died. A victim of that son of a bitch curse Mahito. That was a loss like no other, so incredibly painful and numbing.
At least you died in an honorable way.
After that, he didn't know how to function. Tsumiki, Nobara, and now you. The boy felt half of his soul chip away.
Your husband was even worse. Inconsolable. Watching his wife die in front of his eyes before getting sealed the second after. When the man came out of the prison realm, anyone could tell he wasn't the same. There was no chance the old Gojo would ever return. And sure, he was still lighthearted, but Megumi could tell there was a weight in his gait—the heavy burden of the loss of his darling wife dragging down every word that came out of his mouth. He saw the sadness, longing, anger, and pure vengeance in his eyes. It never did go away. Not even when Sukuna butchered the man in half. At least now, the two of you were together in the afterlife. Megumi truly hoped that. He didn't believe much in that kind of stuff, but for his mother and his father, he prayed for a final peace to be granted.
That hope—along with the one amongst the living pushed Megumi to go on. To not just survive but to really live. Even beyond that, there were others too. His cousin, Maki, who was thankfully alive, and even Toge and Panda.
This was love. That unanswered purpose of life. It's to give love and find love in others. Love is why people do crazy things: to sacrifice the world, to sacrifice themselves. That's why he kept living even when his own dad disappeared or why he kept fighting to keep his sister alive. Love is why, despite the grief, Satoru still fought for you, for your memory, and for your efforts. Love is the reason he's alive.
And if anything, Megumi learned that when you have people in your life, you'd do anything to keep them in it. That's what you and Satoru taught him. Waking up in his own body again and greeted by the sight of his best friends—that was one of the biggest blessings he has ever received.
For his family, he would do anything.
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i'm fucking crying. like actually. 3 chapters to go until this manga ends and i still can't fathom everything happening bruv
btw, this is what i imagine the letter would look like haha. half cannonical cuz it's the panel translation!! excuse my handwriting um
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also sorry this isn't really proofread lol, i really wanted to post!!
dividers @cafekitsune @i-mmaculatus
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yung-notorious · 10 days
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I LOVE THE KINKS, B*TCH, PANTIES TO THE SIDE, BAE! I GOTTA SNEAK 'CAUSE YOUR B*TCHES DO NOT LIKE ME!— ♡
— your roommates are gone for the next couple of hours, and you're in the mood for some company...served with a side of tongue of course. you ain't asking for too much. — feat. satoru gojo
+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose me chapter 7, porn with plot, situationship, late-night sneaky links, pillow talk, risky unprotected sex, dirty talk & body worship, light spit & cum play, squirting, missionary & backshots, fingering & p*ssy eating, cunnilingus, voice kink, breeding kink, exhibition kink, almost creampie, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 6k, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: baby keem - pink panties
There’s just something about getting those “I’m outside” texts that makes your heart race and your tummy tingle just enough to have you rushing downstairs with some pep in your step. You thought answering the door wearing tight little Nike Pro shorts would shake him up, but seeing him walk up the front porch steps wearing something as simple as a black slim fit tee is doing you in way worse. 
Wherever he just came from looking this fine, he couldn’t have been up to any good, but fuck it— y’all can get into that later. All that matters now is that he’s here and you’re minutes away from riding him like the little red polo player on his shirt. 
“You took forever~” You say playfully, arms slinging around his neck as he pulls you into a tight hug, his hands coming down to gently hold you at the waist. Maybe you’re too down bad to think straight, but at this moment you truly believe nothing will ever come close to the affect his sweet touches have on you and when he holds you closer, it’s almost like melting into his arms. 
“I got here in an hour like I said.” He lets you go with a kiss to your cheek, then you’re taking his hand into yours just like before, leading him up the steps to the second floor your apartment unit is on. 
“Come on, come on!” His hands come to lift your butt as you climb the stairs in an attempt to push you up the steps further. 
“Stop, before I trip!” You snap, but it comes out as more of a hushed whisper, trying to keep your voice down out of respect for your neighbors. 
“You’re not gonna trip, come on you’re moving too slow!” He says, giving your butt a few playful taps that have a bit of impact behind them that have you giggling and picking up your pace. He should have just carried you up the stairs if he wanted to get you in the bed faster.
“Where’d you park?” You ask, unlocking your door, making room for the both of you to step inside. 
“Like around the corner, there weren't any spots why?” 
“No reason.” You say all cherry to keep things low-key. You might have failed to mention to him that having him here tonight is a bit problematic. You know for a fact the girls will throw a fit if they found out you skipped dinner to sneak him in.
“I’ll take your shoes— put them in my room.” You pick them up; they're New Balances, and you don’t even want to try to guess what size they are. You don’t know when the girls will be back, so you’ll have to hide them with you. 
Following you down the hall to your room, you lock the door behind you. You’re doing it right this time by having the vibes set before he came through. The lighting is dim and you have your oil diffuser going with music playing off your TV. Unsure of what to throw on you chose the first ‘Calm Night’ playlist that came up on Youtube. Young Nudy’s ‘Passion Fruit’ is playing low…which is a choice…but the beat is hot enough for you to freak too so it’ll do.
“Where’s your roommates?” He sits at the edge of your bed, pulling you in by the waist to stand between his legs, your hands coming down to rest on his shoulders as you look down on him. 
“Out eating— Ow stop! I’m ticklish.” His hands come up to rub circles around your lower abdomen.
“Where at, how come you ain’t go?” He lifts you up to take you in his lap, shifting up your bed as he does so, laying back on your pillows— your stuffed animals already tossed to a corner of your room.
“At some Italian place down the street, and because I was tired. Didn’t feel like going out tonight. I already told you this.” You shift to sit more comfortably. “And why are your pants still on?” You move to tug at the waistband of his sweats but he stops you before you can do so, collecting your hands in his then letting them go. 
“Uh-uh, just wait. I wanna talk to you first— I missed you. How your day been, what you been up to?”
“Mmm…I slept most of the day. I was doing homework with my friend when you texted me—” You slide down his body to rest your head on his chest, and he shifts with you, wrapping you in his arms. You’re close enough to hear his heartbeat, his chin resting gently on your head as he holds you.
“You were on campus?”
“No, we did it together over Facetime. She lives in your dorm actually, that’s who I was with yesterday.”
“Do I know her, what’s her name?”
“You don’t know her— and I’m not giving you her name!" You laugh.
“Why? You tryna have spies on me?”
“Yeah, can’t have you know who I got spying on you— Ow! Stop it!” You yelp, feeling him playfully pinch at your side. It doesn’t actually hurt, but it catches you off guard since you’re ticklish there.
“What do you need spies for? You think I’m sneaky?”
“Anyways!” You draw out, dodging the question in an effort to keep the peace.
“After that, I helped Utahime and Shoko get ready for this girl we’re friend’s with birthday dinner.”
“Oh so you ain’t get invited? That’s why you stayed in?” 
“Tsch, No! I stayed back because I found out at the last minute that it was tonight. By that time I didn’t feel like getting dressed to go.”
“You probably should have gone, she invited you because she wants you to be there.”
“I mean yeah— but she’s more Utahime’s friend, not mine. She’ll be alright.”
“I don’t know…” He chuckles, “You know how girls get when it comes to their birthdays. She might stop fucking with you and never talk to you again.”
“Tsch, oh my god it’s not that deep.” You roll your eyes at the dramatics. That girl will be okay!
“Utahime and I got into a whole argument about it too. She tried to call me selfish. You think that’s selfish?” You lift your head to look at him, seeking his opinion. “All because I didn’t wanna go to dinner?”
“Wasn’t just a dinner, it was a birthday dinner. And that isn’t selfish— if you didn’t want to go then you didn’t want to go. Don’t stress about it anymore, it's over with. You can’t do anything about it now.” 
“It’s not always good to be everywhere all the time. I’ll come out once in a blue but I’m inside a lot, my friends know me for that but it’s all cool.” He adds on. 
Aww, see, this is why you like him! If a man can’t take your side even when you’re slightly in the wrong then y’all shouldn’t be fucking! 
“They know I’m here?” He asks, his tone sounding as if he’s caught on to the reason behind your actions back at the front door when he had first walked in. 
“Maybe…” You admit, halfheartedly already caught in your lil scheme.
“No way you got me in here after getting into a fight with your roommates. Let me leave now before they get back, you’re setting me up.”  He laughs and starts to lift you off him to make his exit, but you use your weight to try and keep him down.
“Aht! No! Lay down!” 
“I’m playing, I’m playing.” He lets you go, arms tightening back around you smoothening you into his chest then letting you go.
“And we didn’t fight, we just exchanged a couple cuss words. We’re all good.” You shift onto your side, settling into his embrace with his right hand resting on your shoulder. 
“Uh-oh, I know how your mouth gets, I even get a little scared of you when you’re mad.” 
“Shut up—”
“Auhp! See, there it goes.” He laughs, cutting you off. 
“I swear I’m a nice girl, y’all just make me mad sometimes. Pushing my buttons.”
“Who’s y’all? I already know you’re an angel, you don’t have to keep proving it to me.” 
“So what were you doing that took so long, said you were with your friends?” You ask, trying to take the subject off of you. 
“Uhhh— we got together in one of my mans dorm. Had a conversation,  all of us were just chilling.”
“And that took you an hour?” You ask, genuinely curious.
“They talk a lot.” He says with a snarky laugh.
“Saying what?” You push further. Y’all fuck for real now so you want to know all the tea— where he’s going, coming from, and who he’s been with. It ain’t controlling either, it’s overseeing. 
“Nothing too serious– just a lot of weird shit going on. Nothing for you to worry about though...kid shit.”
“And you had to put on cologne for that?” You question, nipping playfully at his shirt. You’re not entirely buying his story, and you’re also not trying to accuse him of lying, but you can tell he’s leaving out details that are probably going to catch him up on whatever’s actually going on. It’s cool though, you’re going to find out eventually. Trust.
“Baby this a fresh polo tee, came right out of the pack today. I ain’t put on cologne.” He says smoothly. 
“So you just always smell this good, naturally?” You continue teasing. It’s a silly question, but you’re not backing down from this little debate— or whatever it is.
“Yeah, probably? But I also wash up.” He says with a tone that makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, and it has you cracking up.
“And when are you gonna repost my story? It only has a few hours left, I’m tryna get more views on it.” He says bringing you closer, turning the topic back on to you.
“What yo!?” You suck your teeth. Out of all the things to talk about, he’s bringing that shit up, and now. Stopping to take in the sound of what’s playing in the background, you see that it’s Tinashe’s newer track ‘Uh-Huh’. You should have picked the music yourself tonight, because you surely would have liked getting crushed to her album ‘Nightride’. 
“What, you ain’t fuck with my post?” He teases.
“You know I ain’t like it, stop playing— and what do you know about some Nardo Wick!?” 
“You were turning up to Sexyy Red at the bar, I had a feeling you’d know that song.”
“Mhm…sure.”
“You still want me to delete it?”
“It’s the end of the day, you might as well leave it up. Don’t know why you thought it was cute to embarrass me like that...” You’re over it, seriously you are. But that doesn’t mean you can’t continue pressing him about it. 
“I ain’t embarrass you. You started it, I ended it for you. Told you I was going to get your goofy ass back.” He pokes your cheek and you swat back at his finger.
“Look—” He shifts to pull his phone out of his pants pocket. Like India at Durk, you’re looking all at his phone screen as he opens up Instagram. “You got all these likes and heart eyes. I got a bunch of DMs from people I know saying I’m capping and that I ain’t pull you.” He taps on his story to show you the reactions on the post you’re tagged in, then scrolling through his DMs quickly. “Look at this one, this my bro from back home. He’s laughing at me, saying you ain’t my girl.”
“See, he can even tell you’re a fan.”
“Fuck them, I don’t care. I’m your biggest fan, and I’m back in your bed. Now what?” He locks his phone and sets it face down on your nightstand— the tell-tale sign of a sneaky hoe.
“Tsch— ughh!” You roll your eyes at the irony of his words though you walked right into that one.
“When are you gonna stop playing hard to get?”
“How am I playing hard to get?” You tease, firing back with the same playfulness he uses on you.
“Oh, so I got you then?” 
“I ain’t say that.” You say smart with a little bit of sass mixed in.
“Damn, so you're still treating me like a hoe? You just called me here for some dick and to rub on your booty, didn’t you?” His hand comes down to squeeze your butt, making you smile. 
“Aww see, you know me so well!” You say sarcastically. 
“Uh-uh, I’m tryna get to know you more.” He says, shifting to hover over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head to support himself, looking down at you. “What you do on the weekends, what you’re into, what makes you laugh, smile. I wanna know all that.” You can feel the heat that’s long started to burn in your stomach rise to your cheeks.
“Mmmm, see there you go again blushing. Don’t try to hide it.”
“You talk too much.” You clap back. What more could you say or do, deny the truth?
“And I can keep talking too— help me take these off you.” He says softly, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. Your que to lift your lower half up for him to pull them down. You’re left in your pink thong once they’re off, the cloth at the middle damp and wedged in between the folds of your pussy. His hand comes down to teasingly stroke at your heat, a ticklish feeling that has you instinctively widening your legs. He might think all his sweet talking softened you up, but the truth is that he had you growing wet the moment you answered the door and his big hands held your waist. 
“What time are your roommates coming back?” 
“Not sure…they won’t know you’re here. What you scared?” You bite your lip, looking up at him with teasing eyes. 
“Not scared of them— just gotta be quiet when they get back.” He grabs at your body tightly, large hands spanning over your hips and thighs. “Turn the music off, gotta listen out for the door.” He says, and you’re reaching for the remote you stuck behind your pillow to turn the TV off entirely. 
“Leave them on for a second.” He says, stopping you from taking off your thong next, mesmerized by how it digs into your hips and how its color perfectly complements your complexion. Slipping your hands under his shirt to run them up his chest, you pepper kisses along the side of his jaw as he pulls your thong to the side. Teasing two digits between your folds and around your clit to gather up slick, you can’t help but to buck up chasing more of the feeling. 
“Relax.” He tells you, a firm hand coming down to your hip. You hadn’t noticed you were tense, too caught up in a hurry trying to chase the sensation his touch brings. His command has you easing up, sinking yourself further into the mattress as he moves closer into your space to hover over you, not once breaking eye contact— eyes that you know better than to try and look away from. 
Dropping your hands to lay at your side, he tucks an arm behind your neck to rest his face in its crook, leaving kisses and soft bites along your skin. Running your fingers up into his hair to cradle him closer, bringing him chest to chest, he begins to drive his two fingers deep into you with each and every curl having you moan out in pleasure, widening your legs more in an attempt to rock up against them, chasing his fingers down to the knuckles.
You love the squish sounds your pussy makes, right along with the wet noise of his mouth as he works down your neck. He’s fully clothed still, and when you get the chance to look down you're sure he’s rock hard with the way he’s tenting his sweats. You’d take him out his pants to give him a helping hand, but with the way his fingers are fucking into you so damn good you’re too blissed out from pleasure to find the strength to do so.
Lifting off you a few good strokes later, he moves to tug his clothes off leaving him in his boxers, and you can’t stop your eyes from watching as he takes them off next. His pretty dick, already so hard and heavy, leaking pre. Taking him into your hand, you give his dick a few tight strokes then move to align him to your entrance. 
“I can’t get a taste first?” He breathes out catching your hand, a soft lustful look in his eyes. Oh he’s such a sweetie, always so eager to please, who are you to deny such a beautiful man? Letting go to maneuver your thong off for you, he shifts further down the bed pushing your thighs to the side, plump lips quickly meeting your pussy to give kisses to your clit.
Maybe it’s the pillow princess in you, but there’s nothing you love more than the view that comes with getting your box ate. His head buried between your thighs and your long acrylic nails gently playing with his hair. Your oil diffuser has been running in the corner this entire time— the light emitting from its LEDs casting a purplish glow onto everything throughout the room, and funny enough his soft white hair now resembles pink cotton candy. 
“Fuck—” You moan out softly with your toes curling, caught off guard by his tongue finding its way inside you. Pulling off to spit on your now sloppy pussy, he takes a thumb to smear it in, rubbing circles on your clit.
“Again.” You whine, dragging an index finger down to widen your pussy as you look down for a closer look when he spits again, this time nearly straight inside you. Watching his fingers push in and out of you afterwards heightening your arousal. It’s nasty, unlike anything you’ve experienced before, but you’re starting to enjoy being nasty for him. If he can be your lil' munch, you’ll happily be his lil' slut. Especially when he holds you this close, grips you just right, savors you up like a delicious treat, and murmurs how amazing you taste, loving how wet you get for him every time. 
“Condom?” He pulls off, coming up to lean over you waiting for your response before proceeding. “No…why you still gotta ask?” You say through a teasing smile. It’s only been him, no one else— can’t he tell? 
“Just wanna make sure…” He whispers, left hand trailing up to your chest to wrap around your neck then planting a kiss to your cheek. 
“‘Cause it’s mine right?” He taunts, with a thumb tracing your lower lip. Moving to aligning himself to your entrance you watch him push in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch of his girt as he sinks deeper into you.  
“Shit—” He draws out coming to a hilt, feeling the way you tighten around him he slowly pulls out then back in to watch the way your pussy grabs back at his dick. Taking ahold of your waist he uses a knee to widen you up more, then begins a slow roll of his hips fucking into you in such a way that has you whimpering in pleasure the moment his thighs meet the backsides of yours. 
It’s not enough though, too slow for your liking. You’re more into when fucks you down onto him rough and uncaring, really letting you feel every inch of his dick. The both of you know he’s got it in him, you hate that he’s holding back. 
“More— harder...” You whine out trying to rut against him, taking your left arm to wrap behind his neck, pushing him closer in effort to spur him on to quicken his pace, your other hand grabbing onto his side. 
“Uh-uh, we don’t have to rush…” He murmurs softly, “…i’m not going anywhere.” He shrugs off the arm that’s wrapped around him, taking a hold of your wrist to lay down at the side of your head then intertwining his hand into yours. 
“Let me make you feel good.” He pulls out again, this time sliding the tip through your folds then tapping it hard onto your pussy, causing an audible slap sound that has you humming in pleasure. 
“Wanna take my time with you— tell me where it feels good, okay?” 
You nod in response, voice stuck in your throat as his words fuel the fire that’s burning in your stomach. Lifting your head up a bit to watch as he slides back in, you bring a hand down taking two fingers to part your folds, fingers fixed in a V shape allowing his dick to thrust between them into you  
“There you go— spread it open for me.” He grunts, hips rolling slow and shallow, wetting his thumb to rub circles into your clit. “That feel good?” 
“Mhm— fuck…deeper.” You nod, he’s only got half his dick in and as much as you love the fact that it’s not even fully in you, yet still has you squirming, you know you can take more— all of it. 
“I got you…” He hushes, right hand taking ahold of your right thigh, folding it in towards the side, the new angle has him fucking deeper into you just the way you like it with the both of you watching as you squeeze around him as he continues thrusting in and out of your pussy.
“Toru…right there— don’t stop....” You moan, your own finger now coming to play at your clit. Pussy becoming even more drenched and your whole body growing hot from the way he’s now hitting directly onto your g-spot. 
“Here?” He gives another deep thrust hitting your cervix and that has your back arching, a hand coming down to his stomach to push him back. 
“Don’t run from it…” He thrusts again, loving the way your mouth parts into an O shape and how tightly you clench down onto him. He spits on your pussy again, looking down you catch a creamy ring starting to form around his dick and that’s turning you on even more. You love this nasty shit, letting him it raw and sloppy, slutting you out this good you’ll do just about anything for him. 
“Hold your legs.” He grunts, and you take a hold of your thighs folding them in, his right hand coming down to rest flat onto your stomach holding you steady as his hips snap faster. “Keep playing with it…” He says, and you let go one thigh, keeping it raised to rub at your clit. 
As much as you love getting fucked from behind, you’re growing to love missionary just as much. Him caging you in, whispering the nastiest shit he comes up with into your ear, holding yourself open for him to thrust deeper into you, watching the way his dick works into you as you play with your clit. You don’t love this boy but you definitely love the way he lays pipe, fucking into you just right as if he’s already learnt the layout of your pussy. Arousal overtaking your entire body you slide a hand under your cami to grab at your boobs. Your thighs are now starting to tremble then the next thing you know you’re leaking wet fluid then squirting all over his dick. Tightening up so much he has to pull out.
“Shit— come back.” You pant, nails drenched along with the finger that was playing with your clit pruning. Sitting up some you move to wipe your hand on your stomach to get most of it off you. Taking his fingers to push through your folds he collects up just enough slick, bringing them to your mouth for you to suck clean and you happily oblige wrapping your lips around his two digits. 
“See how wet you are…” He draws his hand back, coming down to rub small quick circles into your pussy, then a few light taps producing a squish sound it’s wetness. “This how I want you to have it ready for me whenever I come see you.” He leans over to whispers into your ear, you’re then feeling him push back into you causing you to buck your hips up chasing his length and god…just the thought of being in your bedroom playing with your pussy, getting it all nice and wet for him before he comes through is taking you from one hundred to a thousand— it’s about time the slut comes out, no more slow shit, you want to fuck for real now. 
“Fuck me…c’mon…wanna cum.” You whine, and that has him taking a hold of your ass, scooting you down the bed closer to his hips quickening his pace, snapping his hips fast, helped by the curve of his dick hitting your g-spot with damn near perfect precision. 
“There— don’t stop.” You whine, yet your hands still come down to the tops of his thighs to push him back. 
“Stop running.” He collects both wrists into his hands, holding them down above your head as he begins to fuck into your mercifully, hips never stuttering.
“Spit on it again.” You beg, and he does. A fat wad that you feel drip down between your ass. You weren’t into getting your coochie spat on before but fuck it, you’re with all the nasty shit tonight. 
“You nasty baby, ain’t think you’d be into that shit. What else do you like, talk to me.” He pants, looking you straight in the eye as he says it, and you're blown away by how gorgeous he looks despite already looking spent with the front of his hair sweated out against his forehead. 
“Like when you spank m— ahh!” A hard slap then grip to your ass cuts you off, he thrusts into you deeper in response to your moan. “Fuck, do that again— mhmp!” 
Slap!
“Mmmm— what else?”
“Like when you grip me tight— on my waist…there just like that.” You stammer out, a hand coming down to squeeze where you showed him to hold. 
“Like when you put your hands around my neck— mmm like that…don’t choke me.” You moan, his large hand wrapping around your throat without any pressure, and you’re batting your eyes all pretty, biting your lip, clenching down on him in return. 
“You feel so fucking good…love how you fuck me…what it feel like for you?” 
“Feels amazing baby, every single time.” He grunts, deep thrusts followed by each of his last three words. “My pretty girl— you’re so fucking perfect.”
“Swear— not one bitch out here comes close to you.” He says clearly for you to hear— no believe it, and that has you dizzy, clinging onto him and letting out choked up moans that are music to his ears spurring him on.  
“Fuck— cum in me.” You moan, too fucked out to care about how you sound right now. You don’t want him to pull out this time, want him to take you however which way he wants, bury his dick deep and bust all up in you. 
“Mmm— want me too?” He teases, feeling his dick twitch inside you. 
“So bad….” You run a hand up into his hair, gripping his locks to bring him closer towards you.  “…wanna watch it drip out…want you to put it back in so you can keep going then cum in me again.”
“Ooooo— don’t say that…” He chuckles low, you can tell by the way his hips stutter that the thought of it is fucking his head up. 
“Serious…it’s your pussy— ahh!” Another hard slap to your ass cuts you off, “You said it’s mine now?” He grins wickedly, knows he’s got you slipping, can hear it in your voice.
“Been yours.” You spit back, tired of the teasing. “Said I’m your girl right? Treat it like it’s yours then, cum in me.”
“Heh— you don’t know what you’re saying.” He says low, and you hate that look in his eyes, like you’re out of your mind, too dick drunk and fucked stupid to know what you’re asking for. 
“Cum in m— ahh mmmh…t-think about you when you’re not here…want you to fuck me everyday— cum in me as much as you wa— shit ahh!” Another deep thrust that hits your cervix again, making you grip the sheets pressing your heels into the mattress to lower yourself, running from it. 
“Lemme be that girl for you…” You continue powering through, wrapping a leg over his back to lock him in. Your voice is needy and dripping with sex, you don’t care how you sound, you'll say anything to tip him over the edge and spill into you. 
“Stop talking…” His voice shakes, your own having an affect on him as you feel his dick twitch again up inside you. 
“Thought you like it when I talk…” You tease with a smile, he’s getting weak, you can tell you’re about to make him cum. 
“Not when you— stop that…” He pushes a hand down on your stomach as you clench around his dick again in an attempt to pull another reaction out of him.
“I was wrong about you…” He speaks up sounding more collected, taking a thumb to part your lips, then dragging down to take a hold of your chin to raise it up. “…you’re not shy…” He slows his thrusts, coming to a complete stop buried deep in you. Two hands come to caress the side of your face, then down your neck, running all over your chest and back up again as if he’s taking in the softness of your skin. “…you just ain’t ever have somebody turn you out…’least not the way I do.”  
You can’t help but smile at the fucking truth that is, a small giggle that you’re able to hold down almost coming up from within you.
“I’m not nutting in you tonight.” He states plainly, “But I can fuck you like the lil pornstar you’re tryna be…come lick it up real quick...I need a break I don’t wanna nut just yet.” He pulls out of your wrecked pussy, sitting back on his heels holding his dick in his hand ready for you to clean off.  
Lifting up with a breathy groan from how sore your thighs ache, you arch down low in front of him, taking him in your hand and squeezing roughly at the tip just the way he likes it, licking up every bit of yourself off him. 
“Bring it up for me…yeah.” He leans over you to grab your ass, and you’re raising it up higher for him to get a better grip.
“Get the front. Sides. All of it.” You do as he instructs, swirling your tongue as you stroke his dick then you’re wrapping your lips around him. About a minute or so later, once you're sure you’ve cleaned it all up, you’re pulling off with an audible pop and a smile on your face. 
“Turn…” He motions for you to move. You turn around, arching down low as he knees his way up the bed, his hands resting on either side of your ass, aligning his dick to your entrance. “Scoot back closer to me…right here…arch…lower…there you go.” He guides you down into position, hands rubbing up and down your back as he does so. 
Missionary great but backshots are even better. Love how it feels when he pushes in, hands pressing deep into the dimples of your back, dick hard and curving up into you fast, tight grip of his hands on your body working you down to feel every inch of his length.  
You don’t miss the string of curses he lets out as his hips slam up into you either, the sound of your ass clapping his hips as you fuck back onto him. Even the weight you’re putting on him is throwing his rhythm off to where he’s taking a hand to your shoulder to steady himself as he fucks into you like a bully. Just wait till I see you again— yeah that was code for ‘Imma bust your shit open’.
Slap!
“You got it baby— just like that.” He groans against your ear, followed by another hard slap against the underside of your thigh almost making you crawl up the bed. 
Slap!
“Uh-uh come on, keep pushing back.” He calls out, pushing you down further causing your legs to widen for him, giving more access to fuck into you. He’s so deep, degrading thrusts knocking up against your cervix with you panting out in a mix of pain and pleasure yet you love it so much. Love the way he fucks like you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever been in, tearing your shit up like he’s mad at you. 
This ain’t just fucking now, nah this is different, y’all screwing. The type of fucking you shouldn’t be doing with just anybody, likely as to why it feels so damn good this way. He ain’t your man just yet, but he’s definitely becoming your something. 
Arching with your chest completely flat against the mattress, you then bring a hand behind yourself to spread your cheeks apart, holding your pussy open for him with his hand coming to grab you at the wrist tight to hold you back. 
“Whose is it?” 
“Yours!” You cry out, taking your free hand down in between your legs to play at your clit. Face squished into the mattress, you can feel yourself drooling but you don’t care, you need to cum so bad. You’re almost there. 
“Uh-uh, say my name baby. Yours who?”
“Yours Gojo!” 
“Mmmm.” You hear him chuckle, pleased by the way his name sounds coming off your tongue. “What I gotta do, nut in you for you to remember?” 
“Yeah— go ’head do it.” You whine out looking back at him and holy shit the look on his face has you burning up even more, you can tell he’s trying his hardest to hold back from bussing. You fucked him enough times by now to know he’s close when his brows knit together like that. 
Lifting yourself up to hold onto your headboard for leverage, he comes up closer behind you, your back to his chest as he fucks up into you deep and hurried holding onto your breasts. The creak of your bed frame and squeak of your mattress coils adding to the pants and moans coming from the both of you. 
“Can’t even feel my dick— that’s how wet you are.” He breathes into your ear, your hands coming to cover his own two holding him closer, loving the way they feel grabbing and squeezing your tits.
“You really gonna let me cum in you one day?” He breathes, unsteady too and you love the sound of it— how he’s not shy to show how weak your pussy gets him. 
“Of course—”
“Fuck— I think I heard the door, your roommates might of came back.” He breathes out, yet neitherare stopping as he’s still fucking into you chasing his own orgasm.  
“Your bed is loud…we gotta slow down.” He warns, and you feel his pace start to slow, and that just won’t do— you need him to cum. You don’t give a fuck if your roommates hear, you spent too many nights hearing them get fucked. They can give you a damn pass. 
“Don’t stop— keep going.” You buck back, “ ‘ts your pussy…take it whenever you want…stop fucking worrying about shit.”
“Fuck you want them to hear you?” His hand comes up to your neck, wrapping around your throat a bit tight as he fucks you down onto his length picking his pace back up. 
“I don’t give a f— hmph!” You squeak, not expecting his hand to slap over your mouth to hold back your moans in an attempt to keep you quiet. He’s fucking into you relentlessly now, hips snapping like crazy as he chases his orgasm. Bringing your finger back down to continue rubbing circles into your clit you soon feel that familiar heat rise up your body, then the next thing you know you’re cumming and moaning in pleasure but he doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck up into your tore pussy. 
Dropping his hand from your mouth he presses you back to the mattress and after a few final thrusts he’s pushing off you with his back hitting the mattress, stroking his dick fast then cumming all over his knuckles and chest. 
“Shit— fuck!” He pants, white ropes of hot cum dripping off the side of his toned stomach. “We gotta chill…” He breathes out. “…I almost nutted in you.” He pants, completely fucked out.  
“I know…” You roll onto your back besides him, watching as he gives his dick a couple more strokes, squeezing the last bit of cum out of him, slowly dripping down his dick. 
Post nut clarity is starting to hit. He’s right, y’all need to chill…your ass isn’t on birth control, and you haven’t told him that yet either. You know in your heart he’s the last person you want to have to send a ‘I need to tell you something’ text too.
Reaching around for your phone, you glance at the time to see it’s just past midni— for more, read the rest of the chapter here…
357 notes · View notes
jasmines-library · 8 months
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Hi. Um... i have been craving angst
👀 and my angsty mind has been making up... scenarios, but like would love them typed out so i can read 💀 i live your work, p.s. <3
anyways, would like to ask for something along these lines:
reader is a batsibling
is kidnapped
fam cant find her for a few days and is panicked
they find her somewhere, blindfolded and tied up, on the ground and caked in blood
they get her some med stuff and whatever
and they're like how did this happen so they somehow get cctv or duke uses his powers or something and finds out that they've been beaten for info
and they get like really angry and all that jazz
:D rest up to you!
would be great if you did it 🥺
but i understand if it's too much
love youuuu 💖/platonic ehe
okay, i will excuse myself from your asks now. byeee
Loaded Silence
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hello hello! Thanks for requesting. This was super angsty, but as you put I crave it too... ❤️
Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture (not very graphic), fear, medical scenes.
Word Count: 1.5k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
It had happened unexpectedly. You were there one second and gone the next. In a blink of an eye. Nothing more nothing less. That was all it took for you to slip away. Damian could have sworn he was only gone for a minute. To stretch his legs and grab something to eat. But that was all it took for them to sneak in. Quiet as a mouse they crept in, splitting through the open window at the back of the room. Leaving it open had been a careless mistake, but who was to think that you would have been taken in the safety of your own home? 
They grabbed you roughly from behind. A set of rough hands pinning you to the sofa, clamped tightly over your mouth as another worked to tie a heavy bandage around your eyes. You had squirmed feebly trying to gain some leverage. Your training desperately tried to kick in but at that moment, you were not a vigilante. You were Y/N Wayne: A citizen, child to the wealthiest man in Gotham and utterly fucked. 
You had no choice after that than to allow them to drag you downtown, you had kicked and cried blindly, desperate for one of your brothers to chase after you. But whoever was gripping you tight enough to bruise was clearly experienced and you knew that they stood no chance so unexpectedly. 
When they tossed you down on the ground, you thought it would offer some relief. The room was dank, dusty and smelt of water rot and mould. This was the part where they would send a ransom note to Bruce and he and your brothers would come charging in sooner or later. But you had never been more wrong. 
“We know who you are, Wayne.” A voice spoke. Feminine but not soft spoken. Threatening. “Or would you prefer Raven?”
Your stomach dropped as bile burned the back of your throat. You knew you could fight now, but you were defenceless weaponless with your hands and feet bound together. 
“The fuck do you want?” You spat, though the effect of the venom in your words was lost for you looked so helpless. 
“Bold of you to speak to me that way, given your predicament.” The woman chuckled, prodding you with her foot. “You’re here as a sort of…payment.”  She mused. “I suppose you could call it that.”
“What?” 
“My husband.” She started, moving away from you. You could hear her pacing around the room but you  could only conjure up images in your mind. “Leader of the greatest crime suricate in Gotham. And now, he’s dead. Rotting in some coffin in the ground, thanks to your father.” 
She moved closer again. Her heels clattered against the floor. 
“He took away the only thing that ever mattered to me!” She gripped your wrist, lifting you up off the floor and leaning into your face. “So now, I’m going to take away one of his toys until someone tells me how to get him out! His precious little girl. Oh how I can’t wait to see the look on all of their faces when they see you. That is of course…after we have a little fun.”
~
There was still no sign of you. And it felt as if they had searched every inch of the city. The high and the low but still nothing. No one had slept much in the three days you had been missing. Their nights were either spent searching for you on patrol or laying awake staring blankly at the ceiling as their minds conjured up the worst. None of them said it outloud but the possibility that you were dead loomed over them. But no one ever said anything. They just continued to search in silence. It seemed like Babs and Tim hadn’t torn their eyes away from the screens since Damian came barging into the room three days ago, doubled over and panting as he revealed the news. The only time they ever moved was to head to the bathroom or to make another mug of lukewarm coffee. 
The rest of the family were out on patrol. That was what they were calling it anyway. Really they were looking for you. And still there had been no sign until Dick stumbled upon a window. It was low down to his feet covered by concrete as though the building had just sunk into the concrete. And when he tried to peer inside, it seemed to be covered by something on the inside. 
It could have been nothing.
But Dick was desperate. 
He called over the other vigilantes with a signal on his com. They all came tricking over towards him silently through the city. Some bubbling with hope and anticipation, but all dreading the worst. 
Moving around the back of the house, Dick pushed open the door. 
~
You had never been more scared in your entire life. Everything ached, burned or stung. From what you could feel there didn’t seem to be a single inch of your skin that wasn’t covered in blood. It clung sticky to your skin, cracking every time you managed to bring yourself to shift against the floor.
She had continued her onslaught for hours, trying to force answers that she knew you would never be able to give her from your chapped lips. She would leave every once in a while, returning silently to catch you off guard with another round of pain. You couldn’t see her: the blindfold still remained firmly around your eyes, so you had to anticipate when she would return as you cowered against the back wall in a pool of your own blood. You were unsure how long it had been since she tossed you into the room. Without the relief of sunlight, your woozy mind had lost track of time. 
And then a pair of hands gripped your shoulders. And you screamed, trying to recoil away from them. You didn’t make it far. Your body was too weak.
“No! No please! No more!” You begged, tears dribbling down your cheeks to mingle among the dirt and blood. “I already told you I-I don’t know anything! Please!”
“Woah, woah.” It was Dick’s voice that broke through to you, though they had all called out to you. It was him who had reached out to you in the first place, hesitant that the smallest touch would break you. As soon as they were met with resistance they knew you were here. And they fought as fast as they could to get to you. Praying that they wouldn’t find you as you had. Sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood as you struggled to breathe. “It’s us.”
“We’re here, Kid.” Jason leaned forwards to remove the blindfold from your eyes as Dick tried to support you in his arms. You squiremed weakly, still untrusting. But the minute the blindfold was off and you had finished adjusting to the onslaught of light. You broke.
You collapsed into Dicks arms, sobbing and shaking. He cupped the back of your head with his hands and held you, giving Jason and Duke a nervous glance. Your blood had already begun to stain the front of his suit as you whimpered in his arms, clinging to him tightly. 
When he tried to shift you, you let out a sob and clung to him tighter. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had hurt you or because you were scared he was going to leave you. Probably both.
“Y/N?” Jason whispered, moving to crouch by your side. “ We’re here now. We’re going to get you home okay? Can you tell us what happened?”
You shook your head and buried your face into Dicks chest trying to block out the pain.
Eyes turned to Duke who watched you with sad eyes. They observed as he surveyed the room, taking in the horrors that the light revealed. And he couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out of his lips. 
He paled at what he saw. Winced at the way your face contorted with pain as the woman towered over you, tossing you about the room like a ragdoll and slashing you with various tools as she screamed at you. He saw how she would catch you off guard by sneaking up on you in the dark as some cruel game to satisfy her sick amusement. He felt sick. 
In the time it took for him to see the echo of your agonies, Dick had managed to coax enough for him to stand so they could bring you out of the room and get you urgently to medical attention. 
The two looked at him expectantly. And once he had managed to stutter out what he had seen, Jason was tensely clenching his jaw and fists. 
Someone was going to bleed tonight. He was going to make sure of that.
Taglist:
@aestheticdaisies
@hell-o-kittys
@xxrougefangxx
@mamapucket
@hearts4robs
@harleycao
662 notes · View notes
miraclewoozi · 1 year
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ELECTRIC. - y.jh
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your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms. 
pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)
smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.
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the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.
jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows. 
(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)
“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 
“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”
your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.” 
he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.
“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”
he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for. 
in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy. 
you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.
“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”
you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying. 
“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”
he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter. 
“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”
but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.
“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”
“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.
“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”
begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.
jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him. 
he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.
“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.
“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”
“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”
he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable. 
“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”
“jeonghan–”
“y/n.”
the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)
but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.
“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”
“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”
there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.
“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.
“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”
“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.
he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.
“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.
somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.
“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”
“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him. 
“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you. 
“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”
“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”
“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”
jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”
“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”
“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”
you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)
“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had. 
every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.
oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…
“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”
he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…
“how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway. 
he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request. 
“please stay with me.”
if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away. 
“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.
“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow. 
“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”
“a what?”
“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”
he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.
“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”
“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”
he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale. 
“fine. you’re building it, though.”
you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.
“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.
“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”
a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable. 
you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.
you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.
and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?
there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.
but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation. 
with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.
you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.
a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.
“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.
“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.
you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.
“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–
“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”
“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”
“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”
“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god – 
…and heaven above, the penny drops. 
jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.
therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.
“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”
“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”
“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?
“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”
“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”
boom.
and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.
you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking –
“okay, wait. hear me out.”
to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.
“i can help you.”
your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.
“you don’t have to–”
“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”
“hannie…”
“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”
if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.
“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”
he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.
you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.
“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”
but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs. 
“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours. 
“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”
you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin. 
“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”
“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.
now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.
of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.
“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.
but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?
“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”
“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”
you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”
“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.
you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.
“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.
“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”
well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.
“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 
“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”
“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for. 
he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.
“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”
“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?” 
and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.
“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”
to his credit, he does.
and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.
the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.
within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)
every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along? 
sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.
“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”
“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”
“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”
“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.
by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.
“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies. 
“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”
you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.
“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser. 
what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.
“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is. 
“yes to what?” 
“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.
you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. 
saved for really important promises.
“to next time.”
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thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.&lt;3
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Birthday wishes [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.
second part here!
contents: childhood best friends, idiots who-don't-know-they're-in-love, surprise parties, pure fluff honestly
If you like my work leave a comment or reblog, that would make me very happy!
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The first thing Spencer did when he got home was get rid of his converse and even though it had been a relatively calm day he was exhausted, so he went straight to the bedroom to throw himself on the bed. He lay back for a while, just enjoying the calm, and then he fumbled for the cell phone in his briefcase. He hit the call button on the contact he'd wanted to talk to all day and then he waited patiently.
“L/N family residence, who do you want me to contact you with?”
"Hello, is Miss Y/N by any chance?"
"Who's looking for her?" you continued and a smile escaped from his lips. It was usual for you to respond in a silly way when he called you, so he was used to it by now.
"Her best friend, Dr. Spencer Reid"
“Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, I don't think that sounds familiar…” you teased, hearing him snort from the other end of the line “Ah! Wait, I remember you."
“After knowing each other for like 20 years, I hope so” he laughed, and then you too.
Sure enough, the man and you were friends from a very early age. You were his neighbor when he lived in Las Vegas and your parents had always been quite nice to the family, knowing the delicate situation they faced, so it wasn’t difficult for you to become friends. You were the first friend he ever had, a real one, so there was a special fondness between you, even when he had gone off to college at such a young age and distance had subsequently separated the two of you.
You always called each other and every time he visited his mother it was a law that you also received a visit, even if the time was only enough for you to greet each other with a hug. You also traveled to DC a few times because of your work and you even had your own key to his apartment, so if he was busy with a case, you could stay there instead of paying for a hotel. Your relationship was like that of a brother and sister, although as this familiarity grew, it was slightly intervened by loving feelings that you didn’t want to face yet but were definitely there.
You knew a lot about his life from those long-distance calls that happened at least once a week, and right now he was excited about something in particular. He was exactly one week away from his thirty-year birthday, and he hoped that, like every year, you would fly from Las Vegas to see him. It was a tradition, whether it was thunder or lightning, you two hadn't missed a single birthday from the other since he had to move out of state. So Spencer was hoping that this call was for you guys to plan what you were going to do; regularly your birthdays were in restaurants or nice places and his were at home, with food delivery and classic movies, or when you felt very adventurous you could go to a museum or just walk through the streets.
"How are you, Reid? How is everything?"
"Not so good, but not so bad either" he laughed "And you?"
"Everything has been terrible, it's like a curse is on my head, I swear" you complained. Spencer got up from his comfortable position to sit on the bed and although he knew that most of the time you said things like that you were just exaggerating, this time he had a bad feeling.
"Why?”
You started to tell him about the financial problems you were going through and he, with his mind still focused on your visit, thought about offering to pay for your flight to DC, but his spirits fell completely when you told him that you were being put under too much pressure at work.
“We're going to have a meeting next Friday with HR to discuss responsibilities and so on, but honestly I don't think things will get better. Right now I'm working from home because there are pending issues that have to be resolved as soon as possible and I barely have time to think during the day, you seriously can't imagine how busy I've been.”
When you finished the story, he remained silent, feeling his chest squeezed by the direction that things were now taking. With that scenario, your visit was too complicated and he was debating internally about whether he should tell you something about it or not. As he had thought before, the money to have you with him wasn’t a problem, but dealing with the issue of your shortened times was totally different. He didn't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to go, let alone disrupt activities that he knew were important to you, like that meeting you just mentioned. So what should he do? He wanted you to be there, but he wasn't going to make you.
“Crash? You still there?" you asked. Only you and his mother called him that, since his nickname had arisen when he was just a child due to his clumsiness, a trait that, in your opinion, he still retained. It wasn't offensive coming from you, even he was glad to know that this was something that belonged to the two women he loved the most.
"Yes, I'm here. I just was thinking"
"You always do, I don't think there's a single second when that mind of yours rests," you said amused "Anyway, what's new?"
Spencer hoped that you would at least apologize to him for your future absence or ask him what he intended to do today. But you seemed not even aware of it.
“Nothing, really. Today we're done with a case and if I'm lucky I'll be able to rest this weekend” he murmured. Sometimes he would tell you things about the cases, omitting bloody and dangerous details, so he leaned back and started recounting all the events into the speaker of his phone.
You two continued to talk for almost an hour, but the topic of the birthday didn't come up once and Spencer didn't try to bring it up. After all, there were still a few days to go and in the worst case, you could at least call him that day to congratulate him, right?
But as the days went by, the anxiety ate him more and he even called you a few days after that, but he only received a response from your mailbox and after a few minutes a short text message where you explained that you were a little busy with work, but that you would call him as soon as you could. The fact that during those days he found out that the entire team already had something to do on Friday didn’t help his mood too much.
Hotch and JJ discussed a sleepover for Henry and Jack after work, he overheard Garcia and Morgan agreeing to visit a new bar for the night, Rossi said he was going to visit one of his ex-wives and when he thought he could still invite Emily to hang out, she went over to talk to him about the therapist appointment that she clearly didn't want to go to, but had to. There was no remedy, everyone had plans for his birthday and he didn’t want to interfere with them. Resignation was the only thing the doctor had left during the remaining days, and when he least expected it, the entire week had already passed.
He used to wake up to your off-key version of the birthday song and a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, then you'd make breakfast and you'd eat it together; so not having any of that when he got out of bed, he felt his heart break a little. This year he thought he would get your call first thing in the morning, but when he checked his phone he didn't even find a message announcing that there was a case. He didn't want to go to the office to do paperwork on his birthday, but the thought of at least getting a hug from his coworkers cheered him up slightly.
He put on his favorite shirt, a new pair of pants, and the converse that you had given him and he only wore on special occasions, before leaving the apartment. For some reason Spencer enjoyed taking the subway, perhaps more than anyone he knew, and this time he stopped at a coffee shop that was just before arriving to buy something to drink, since he didn't feel like eating anything.
He undertook the entire trip lost in his thoughts and when he least expected it, he was already at the headquarters. He checked his phone, again, but he still didn't get any notifications or missed calls. Many times you had insisted that he get a more modern model and he had refused, but now he was wondering if the advances in technology would have allowed him to communicate with you through a video call. It would be embarrassing to ask Garcia for a favor, so he concluded that he would just wait, after all if he hadn't communicated it must have been for something important.
Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a huge smile and he felt somewhat disconcerted when the others greeted him normally, without hugs or cake on the table. He sat down at his desk to start going through the documents he already had and the others continued on their own business. It was common for Emily or Morgan to come up to him for a chat, but on this particular day it was as if they were avoiding him. Even Penelope, who he swore would congratulate him, seemed to have completely forgotten when he came to her place with the excuse of needing a piece of information from the previous case. When Hotch called him to his office, the man's eyes lit up, believing that his boss had remembered the celebration of the date.
"Can you do me a favor?" he had asked, without taking his eyes off whatever he was writing "Donovan needs to sort some files and honestly he has no idea how to do it and I'm too busy to explain, could you do it?"
Donovan was in charge of the physical file inside the building and it was not usual for him to request this kind of support, but Reid still said yes, and the rest of the day passed with him locked in a cellar full of filing cabinets. He had made sure to take his phone with him and every time he turned it on to check it and he realized that there was no sign of you his disappointment increased. He came to wonder if his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him and, for some incredible reason, he had gotten the day wrong and it wasn't really October 12; but when he saw the calendar, he verified that this wasn’t possible.
“Are you out of punishment yet?” Emily taunted, when after many hours she saw him again by the bullpen. At another time Spencer would have laughed, but right now his mood wasn't quite right for it and he just looked at her, more hostile than he intended. “Hotch left you some documents on your desk, he asked if you could review them before you go. It's urgent,” she informed him.
It was obvious that this would take time and he felt like crying at the thought of having to stay longer than the regular time. It was almost an hour after everyone else had gone home that he finished, feeling somewhat annoyed to find out that even Aaron had already left.
He doubted whether to go home or go to dinner somewhere, because he knew that if he returned to the apartment he would sink into sadness. His birthdays didn't mean anything special on their own, what he liked was to feel loved, to enjoy the company, but above all to see you.
While he was leaving the building, and as if you were reading his mind, a call vibrated on his cell phone. Seeing that it was you, Spencer didn't take more than two seconds to answer, thinking that maybe after the whole day he could improve.
"You won't believe what happened to me!" you said, without even greeting him. It wasn't the kind of sentence he was expecting, but he still decided to listen.
"What happened?"
“There is a boy, at my work, his name is Brandon. Well, Brandon and I have talked a few times now and he seems like a nice person, plus he's pretty handsome and he finally asked me out on a date with him, can you believe it?" you murmured excitedly, and a lump formed in Spencer's throat "We're going out today, the meeting was canceled and we decided to take advantage of the time, but I can't decide whether to wear the red dress or the black and gold outfit that my mom gave me and I need the help of an expert. You have seen both, which one do you think suits me better?
Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing the situation she was going through, and it wasn't until you said his name that he reacted.
"I like your red dress," he murmured, with a sad smile that you clearly couldn't see. He couldn't believe you were going out with a man you'd never mentioned and it affected him more than he expected you to be asking for advice because a pang of jealousy shot through his chest.
You were telling him that you were going to have a date on his birthday.
“I thought the same! I guess that will be the best option."
"I guess…"
"Where are you now? At home?" you kindly asked. Your tone almost made him angry.
“I just got off work. I'm on my way to take the subway"
"Oh, excellent. Today there were no cases?"
"Not fortunately. I'm glad to know that the criminals at least respected my birthday."
With that said, there was a deathly silence between you, to the point where he wondered if you were still on the other end of the line or if you understood what he was implying.
“Spencer, my God, I…”
"It's okay if you forgot," he said, trying to play the matter down, but the tears that were beginning to accumulate in his eyes indicated otherwise. The guilty tone with which you had spoken was more than enough to know that, probably, if he hadn’t mentioned it, you wouldn’t have done it either "Nobody remembered it"
"I'm so sorry" you practically sobbed "Between all the work and stuff I... I don't even know why I forgot, forgive me”
"It’s okay" he replied. But it wasn't okay. 
“Can I do something to fix it? Whatever, you just… ask me what you want and I'll do it. I swear," you mumbled, sounding desperate.
He tried to convince you that there was no problem with it and you continued to pour out apologies, which Spencer knew were worthless now but he wasn't selfish enough to ignore them. He wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to get that weight off his chest and even though he loved the sound of your voice right now it was the last thing he needed.
“Anyway, I'm about to enter the subway and uh, I have almost no signal there. I'll call you later, okay?" the question didn’t wait for an answer, because he immediately added: "Good luck on your date, bye"
If he had considered going out to celebrate, he knew that now what he urgently needed was to go home or he would break down in tears in the middle of the street. The ride on the subway lasted longer than he would have liked, as he longed to go to sleep and find out if it would allow him to forget a bit about the shitty day he had just had. When he was finally in front of the door with the number 23 in gold letters, he struggled enormously to put the key into the lock, because the tears in his eyes were already clouding his vision, and he believed that the heaviness on his shoulders wouldn’t allow him to advance.
The key turned one turn, then another, and then Spencer was allowed inside the house.
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One week before…
The team was meeting in the conference room at the request of Penelope, who had asked everyone to stay after the scheduled time, waiting to receive the news of what they thought would surely be a new case.
"And Reid?" Morgan asked, noticing the empty chair next to him, because they had seen him leave and that was reason enough to have questions about his absence.
"I'm glad you asked because this meeting is related to him," Garcia replied. With the push of a button, a face appeared on the main screen and almost everyone present was surprised to see who it was "She is Y/N Y/L/N, do you remember her?"
"You were at Prentiss's funeral, right?"
"That's right" you replied with a smile, looking directly at the aforementioned "I still have a little trouble understanding, uh... that whole thing, to be honest" you joked.
"Y/N asked us for this space to discuss something related to Spencer's birthday, which will be next Friday" explained Hotch, who was the other member who was already aware of the matter "The microphone is all yours"
"Okay, so where do I start? It's great to see all of you and I hope you're doing well. Every year I visit Spencer on his birthday and we spend the day together, but since this year is his 30th birthday I wanted to do something special and I want to know if you would be willing to help me”
"Tell us your plan, precious"
“I don't intend to take up a lot of your time, it's simple. I will call him today to insinuate that this year I can’t go and all I want you to do is pretend that day that you don’t remember that it’s his birthday”
"Wait, why do you want us to ignore it?" JJ muttered with a frown.
"I want to throw him a surprise party in his apartment" you explained with a smile and then the request you were making to them didn't sound so farfetched "You can tell him you have plans that day and if he mentions something you just say you can't go. I bought my flight for that day and I will be in the city starting in the morning, so I can prepare everything”
"And how will we do if he invites us somewhere?"
Morgan suggested using a decoy for him and pretending they were taking him somewhere else, but you balked at the idea.
“I have all my hopes that he doesn’t mention anything. If so, we'll manage somehow. And I know that asking for that is difficult because we are all his friends, but if necessary, avoid him completely that day. We need him to know under no circumstances that we have a surprise for him."
“He is very smart and he will figure it out. If we make him believe that we forgot he will concentrate on that” you argued. Although the others didn't want to admit it, they knew that you had a point there "I just hope you don't have some unforeseen case or something like that, because I would hate for that lie to be for nothing"
You discussed some more until you concluded that your plan was the most viable. The girls would help you with ideas for decorations and David even offered to buy all the drinks. Although the others weren’t surprised by his generosity, you were slightly upset, but this didn’t prevent you from accepting the offer and thanking him in advance.
“It really means a lot to me that you guys help me, thanks” you murmured happily, once everything was settled, and then your phone started ringing in the background “It's Spencer! I have to answer him. If something happens, you guys will tell me, right?"
"Take it for granted" smiled Garcia, who was the one who had lived with you the most, but everyone supported her from the bottom.
"Fine, thanks everyone, thanks Agent Hotch, I'll see you later!" you said goodbye, hanging up the video call and simultaneously answering the phone.
Everyone got up from the conference room and Rossi was the first to speak, a smile on his face.
"Call me crazy..." he started to say "but something tells me that girl and Spencer are going to end up together"
"The pretty boy loves her, but he still doesn't notice it," Morgan laughed, as they all walked out. "Whenever we go to Vegas, his eyes shine when he sees her."
“And she's setting this up for him! It's so sweet" Penelope sighed, who had already taken Derek's arm "But the part about being mean to Spencer doesn't convince me much… he's going to be so sad"
"Look at it this way, babygirl: if he's sad he'll be happier than usual with the surprise."
"Nobody's going to screw it up," Emily threatened them, pointing her index finger at them, and the rest of the team promised they wouldn't.
Meanwhile, your first part of the plan was in the works, with the late-night call he had made to you. You had to admit that lying to your best friend was something you hated, but with any luck it would all be worth it when you could hug him and give him that gift that you had carefully kept on one of the shelves, that you hoped could be enough for such an important event like the first thirty years of life.
What happened during the week is history, which was consolidated at the moment he turned the handle without even imagining what awaited him.
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When Spencer walked through the door the first thing he did was turn on the light and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the screams coming from inside. There were purple balloons scattered all over the floor, a congratulations banner, a table full of presents, and everyone was there.
The shock was such that he couldn't even manage to say a word and some of the tears that he had been holding back were finally able to come out, but this time for different reasons.
They hadn’t forgotten.
"How…? What are you doing here?"
“We came to celebrate your birthday, genius,” Morgan laughed, as he reached over to hug his friend and ruffled his hair brotherly.
A wave of hugs preceded that and even he received a couple of kisses on each cheek from Rossi, which finally made him laugh. He seemed like a child, completely fascinated with everything around him and still processing the situation.
In the midst of it all, he couldn't help wondering how his friends had been able to enter the apartment, since none of them had a copy of the key and the landlady was too suspicious to have let them in just like that, but he felt happy for the direction the day had taken.
“First of all, we have another surprise for you,” said JJ, obviously excited. The rest shared complicit glances and García began to record with his cell phone, which made him a little nervous "But you have to close your eyes."
Spencer looked at everyone else as if waiting for a confirmation of that, and seeing a couple of nods he did what his friend was asking. Just to make sure Jennifer covered his eyelids with her hands and in this way she turned him around, while he wondered what this surprise could be about.
"Are you ready?" she asked and the man answered yes with a hum. There was silence for a second, as if they were checking something, and then she withdrew her hand. "Open them."
Many possibilities went through the man's mind for whatever he would see at that moment, but when he did, he felt his heart stop for a moment. There you were, looking at him with a sweet smile and wearing that red dress. 
The rest of those present were waiting for who would make the first move, because the two of you had froze looking at each other, and García was only pointing the camera carefully as you had requested.
"Surprise?" you said shyly, noticing that Spencer hadn't said anything.
You were afraid that after the call you had he was upset with you in some way, but a second after he recovered from the shock he was already on top of you, holding you by the waist to spin you through the air while you laughed heartily.
"You came," he said, his voice cracking, but completely brimming with happiness.
"Of course I would, Spencer, do you think I'd miss your birthday?"
"But you... your work"
"All a vile lie"
"And that boy?"
“There was never such a thing,” you laughed, freeing yourself from the weight of guilt “You're my only boy,” you added affectionately, palms planted squarely on your friend's cheeks. He still had you in his arms and was grinning from ear to ear at your answers "I'm so sorry I told you all that, I just didn't want you to suspect anything, can you forgive me?"
"No!" he practically squealed and you widened your eyes in amazement “Today was the most terrible day because I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you made me suffer! All of you!" your friend complained, looking away from you briefly to look at those present.
"In our defense, she asked us to," Emily laughed, holding up both hands in surrender.
"You're so mean," he murmured, turning his attention back to you. "But I love you so much.”
A group sigh filled the room as he engulfed you in a hug and from your position you could see the teasing or tender smiles they all had. It wasn't very common to see the youngest of the team in that position, much less saying those things, plus we had to add the collective opinion that you were madly in love.
"Seriously, forgive me"
"It’s okay…" he whispered close to your ear "You're here, that's what matters"
His body felt so soft and safe that you didn't want to stop hugging him, but you knew that if you took too long it would create an uncomfortable environment for the rest, so you had no choice but to gently pull him away from you. The woman asked your friend, just to annoy him, if he liked his surprise and although he didn't say anything, the giant smile and flushed cheeks were enough of an answer.
"Come, you won't escape my melodious voice" you murmured after a few seconds, when the commotion calmed down a bit.
Taking him by the hand, you led him to the table where you had the chocolate cake with a couple of candles that formed the number 30. Everyone sang the song while the wick burned down and the boy looked anywhere, with that certain shyness characteristic of him. When he blew out the candle to make his wish, you all applauded and that started the celebration.
There were some appetizers on the table and Rossi had stocked all the drinks quite well, as he had promised. As the minutes passed you hovered here and there to check that things were in order, arranging everything as if it were your own apartment, and Spencer could only smile at how well you seemed to get along with everyone. The last time you'd seen the team was, sure enough, during Emily's funeral, but that didn't mean there wasn't some history between you.
He still remembered the feeling of shame when in the early years he had asked Gideon for permission to summon someone to the hotel during a case in Las Vegas. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you, but that he was ashamed of having to reveal something so important in his life to his FBI colleagues. The agent didn't object at all, but that didn't spare the man from being grilled by Derek and Elle about which mysterious lady their younger coworker was talking to. Over the years, people left the unit, and others joined, but the constant was always you. Even now, if a replacement happened, Spencer knew that the rest of the team would take it upon themselves to introduce you to said person. 
At some point he felt a tremendous nostalgia for that time and in a chain of thoughts he came to ask himself if working where he did was the right thing to do. Turning thirty was cause for celebration, but for him it was also tantamount to thinking how well he had lived up to the expectations of what he expected to have achieved at this age: How much progress should he have made in the world by now? Was it any use having that brilliant mind that everyone raved about if he was working in a government office? And what about his personal life? He wanted to get married at some point and wondered if he should be looking for love instead of criminals. Even while he was through all this, he wished he could focus on how happy his friends had made him instead of worrying about other things. 
"Up to here I can see the gears of your brain" laughed someone next to him. It was Emily "What's wrong?"
"Nothing" he murmured, shaking his head softly "I was thinking about some things, it's just that"
"You should drink some more, that wine that Dave brought tastes delicious" she smiled, inviting him to come closer to the others to chat.
It was a bit ironic, but completely understandable, that even at his own birthday party he would remain a bit oblivious to the situation. Following Emily's advice, he poured himself another drink and joined the other attendees to enjoy the moment. For hours you laughed and chatted, until the drinks were running out and your drunkenness rising.
The parents of the group were the first to leave and the last was a drunk Penelope who threatened to stay there to sleep, but Derek took it upon himself to guide her to his car to take her home. It was late at night when only you and Spencer were left, amidst all the decorations in the room.
"Peace and tranquility"
"It was too much?" you laughed, knowing that your friend could become overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.
"No, no. Just kidding"
“And was it okay for you? You had fun?" you asked, referring to the party, as the two of you sat down on the leather couch. The dress you were wearing rose to the top of your thighs and his attention strayed there for a second, so he looked up guiltily; He didn't help the blush on his cheeks that there was your cleavage. 
"Everything was wonderful"
"Are you seriously not mad at me?" you insisted
"No, honey, I'm not," he laughed. You tried to ignore the fact that he had said that to you, since it wasn't something he was used to, and just smiled sheepishly, "I mean, at first I was a little, but now that I understand why you did it, I'm not anymore."
“You are already thirty… you are so old!”
"You are older than me!" he squealed, completely offended, and you responded with a laugh. Although that was true, you looked more jovial than the man, something that a variety of people had taken it upon themselves to verify.
"Now that I remember, do you want to see your gift?"
"Isn't this supposed to be my gift?" The confusion was evident in his voice and you refrained from answering, as you bolted into the room. You came back from there with a box in your hands, which you later placed on your lap with evident emotion.
“I wrapped it myself” you confessed, rather proud of yourself. You had found a piece of paper to cover with drawings of equations and small microscopes that you thought captured the essence of your friend and, of course, now that he had seen it, he had liked it a lot.
The man's fingers drummed the surface under your expectant gaze, and then he winced slightly.
"What's up?"
"I don't know, I think maybe I should open it later…"
"Spencer Reid!" you yelled. It was obvious that he was only joking with you and you knew that by the laugh that escaped his lips. 
Your friend opened the box almost ceremonially and then removed the tissue paper that covered the contents: above all there were two hardcover books, one about the world of fungi and the other about poetry, next to it an hourglass, then three boxes with jigsaw puzzles, a pocket chess game, packets of Reid's favorite sweets, and last but not least, a picture of the two of you in a pretty chocolate-colored frame and a little paper envelope to go with it. One by one he was taking out the gifts and his smile only grew with each object, while he felt his heart grow with love.
"I remember this day" he murmured, referring to the photograph you had chosen. The sky was blue behind you and you were kissing Spencer's cheek, who was smiling at how spontaneous it had been “We were in a park after going to an art exhibition."
“And we bought the most delicious ice cream in the world”
"I differ, I've had better," he murmured, shrugging. The truth is that you thought that the ice cream had been delicious because of the whole panorama of that day, not so much because of the taste itself.
Spencer knew that photo would have to go on his desk in the bullpen, although the taunts he was sure the others would throw at him. Perhaps having you there would serve as a reminder that there was good in the world, despite everything he could see on the job every day. 
“Oh, and I read somewhere that hourglasses help people with anxiety because it's relaxing to watch the sand fall so they can focus on it. I thought you might like it, I bought it at an antique store."
"It's very nice" he agreed, turning the object over and checking that it actually worked "I'll open the note, okay?"
Spencer always preferred that you read his letters in private because if he saw your face and knew you were reading those words he would just cringe, but you didn't seem to share that trait so you agreed to his request. As with the box, he carefully opened the envelope and then pulled out a handwritten note.
I hope you like these little gifts that try to express a huge love.
Never doubt that you are making a change in the world and that you are surrounded by people who love you, including your old neighbor who now ironically lives too far from you. 
Happy 30th birthday to my favorite person in the entire world. I am confident that many more years will come for both of us.
Always yours, Y/N.
"Don't cry, Reid" you asked gently, feeling your own tears at the edge of your eyes. Spencer smiled and leaned in your direction to wrap you in a hug so hopefully you wouldn't notice if he got emotional.
"Thank you" was the only thing he managed to say. 
He wanted to thank you not only for that day but for years of friendship, years of feeling like he wasn't so alone in the world if he had you by his side and even thank you for treating him like a normal kid when no one else did. And as always, you perfectly understood what he was referring to.
You stayed like that for a few minutes; Spencer tucked into the crook of your neck and cooing at the throbbing on your pulse line, and you basking in the warmth of the contact.
“Did you like the puzzles?” 
"Yeah! They are great” he replied, as he moved away from you so that he could observe you “Do you want us to put one together?”
“Sure” you smiled “Just let me put on my pajamas and I'll be right back, okay?”
"Good. You look very beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't know if I forgot to tell you” he flattered you, making you smile sincerely. 
"You chose it, remember?"
Before getting up you kindly squeezed his cheek and after changing your clothes you returned to where you were. He had chosen the puzzle with the design of a Monet painting and spread it out on the floor, where the two of you settled comfortably.
Your friend took a bunch of pieces and you took another and you guys worked in silence until little by little things started to come together. He was very good at the task and very soon he already had a considerable part assembled; although you were going a little slower you followed a constant rhythm. 
"Hey, Spencer"
"Yeah?" he asked, too intent on finding a place for the piece in his fingers to watch you.
“What was your birthday wish? When blowing out the candles”
"Oh, I didn't wish for anything"
"Why?" you asked confused.
Spencer looked up from the puzzle and smiled at you.
"Because my birthday wish was already right here"
It seemed obvious to him, but it took you a second to understand exactly what he meant and when you finally did, your eyes gave him the sweetest look of all.
You and your friend stayed up all night until the play was over and after that you both stumbled to bed, where you fell fast asleep in each other's arms.
At some point Spencer half-opened his eyes, prisoner of a bad dream, and when he was aware of the situation he felt the peace he needed. After that it didn't take him long to get back to sleep, with a smile on his face and his whole world held in his arms.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 months
Text
{ A little rockstar Eddie for you all this evening. Matchbox Twenty always gets me in my feelings about these two dont ask me why. I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡 }
He and Steve break up. It's gentle. And mutual. And it breaks both their hearts. Steve isn't happy on the road with him. And wasn't happy at home without him. So they agree to separate. To take time away. To grow, hopefully, both of them hoping they find their way back to each other.
They still text pretty frequently. But the main thing is, Eddie and Robin still text too. And she tells him she's gonna tell him something. That she's breaking her and Steve's sacred best friend oath, to tell Eddie this.
Steve's still not happy.
They're roommates, he and Robin. And she sees him getting sadder and sadder, missing Eddie. The only time she sees him smile is when he's talking to Eddie, either texting, or actually talking, or every now and then they all do video chats. And that's when Steve is happy. She tells Eddie. The HE makes Steve happy.
And Eddie can't just let that go. Cuz he's been miserable too. Not going out after shows anymore with the CC boys, just going back to the bus and texting Steve. The only thing that's making his days bright.
And he loves his music. He does. But god does he love Steve too.
So one night. Eddie and the boys are on a talk show. They play one of their new singles before the commercial break. And are supposed to play another at the end of the show. Steve goes to the bathroom for one second, and then Robin is yelling for him. He washes his hands runs back to the living room, hands still wet.
Robin has the tv paused, Eddie's face almost filling the screen.
"I rewound it a little just... here. I'm gonna... go in my room." And she tosses the remote at him and runs to her room. Steve feels nervous, looking at the tv, Eddie's larger than life face making him smile before he sits, pulls his lip between his teeth, and presses play.
"Alright so I know we're supposed to be playing a single of ours, but I gotta change things up. Cuz... I have something that needs saying, and Matchbox Twenty unfortunately already said it best, so..." he wipes at his head with his forearm, looking nervous, giddy.
"Here goes. Steve. If you're watching. And god I hope you are. This one's for you." He sighs, takes a step back and starts the song.
The first notes hit Steve like a freight train. His heart pounding in his ears, he turns the tv up and tucks his knees up to his chest, eyes locked on the screen.
Eddie's playing is old acoustic guitar, his hair falling in his face. He sings the first few lines, voice soft, and deep, and god Steve misses him so fucking much. And then he sings,
"You think I'm weak, I think you're wrong." And his eyes flick up at the end, looking right into the camera, right at Steve. He literally gasps, drops his feet to the floor and scoots to the edge of the couch, his hands shaking.
The next few lines are just as soft, his eyes moving away from the camera again, until he sings,
"And I think you're so mean, I think we should try." Little smirk on his mouth when he says it, Steve knowing Eddie loves when he's mean, loves when he's bitchy. But his brow furrows when he says he thinks we should try, and his voice shakes and Steve's hands move to cover his chest as he watches Eddie keep singing.
He looks straight into the camera again when he sings,
"Baby you need to come home." And Steve feels the first tear fall down his cheek. The music softens again but then Eddie's singing with that little smirk and Steve's breath catches.
"I bet you're hard to get over." The smirk melts to a smile and Eddie closes his eyes, sings,
"I bet the room just won't shine." He looks sad as he continues, until he gets to the next,
"And I think you're so mean." And he's smiling again, giving that knowing look to the camera again. Steve laughs, tears falling freely now. And then Eddie is frowning, his fingers moving over his guitar,
"I think I'm just scared, that I know too much." His head shaking.
"I can't relate and that's a problem I'm feelin. If you're gone," his voice goes rough, his eyes move to the camera again and Steve almost sobs, he knows that frustrated look, Eddie always feeling outside things, like he can't relate.
"Baby you need to come home, come home." The desperation in his voice has Steve sliding to his knees in front of the couch, hands still clasped against his chest, fingers moving toward his neck.
The house band kicks in then, orchestral backing to the CC boys playing and it's beautiful. Eddie smiles as he keeps singing, nodding their way.
He moves his eyes back to the camera and is basically pleading with Steve now, as he sings, and Steve is humming along as best he can, his throat full of fire, fingers wrapped there, pressing gently to ease the pain a little.
"I think I'm scared. Do I talk too much?" Eddie sings, his eyebrows furrowing with a mocking thoughtful expression, Steve laughs through a sob as he watches Eddie play, watches him sing, watches him ask Steve to come home.
The CC boys chime in soflty,
"Somethin in me." And Eddie follows them, softly too, but strong.
"Everything in."
The boys going even softer.
"Somethin in me in."
Eddie follows, voice going impossibly soft, eyes on the camera.
"In you."
And then the lights drop and it's just Eddie sitting in a spot light, he keeps his eyes on the camera and whispers,
"Please come home." And lowers his head, hair falling as he looks into his lap. The light stays on for a few more moments and then goes off.
The camera cuts to the host, looking a little teary eyed themselves, and they call for commercial and Steve loses it. He hunches over and is claws at his chest, sobs falling silently past his lips. He gasps a few times, falling to his butt on the floor, trying to catch his breathe.
"They're in Chicago in two days." Robin's watery voice cuts through his crying. He turns and sees her standing there, leaning against the wall near the hallway, arms wrapped around herself, her cheeks are wet too.
"I just bought us tickets. You should probably start packing now. We all know it takes you fucking forever." She rolls her eyes, wipes at her face, and laughs when Steve crashes into her.
She helps him pack. It takes him almost the full two days. Robin teasing him about it as they dash out the door to catch their train.
Robin texts Eddie that their coming. She doesn't tell him that Steve's planning on staying. Eddie puts them on the backstage pass list, gets them all the upgrades, and sends a pack of the good earplugs because he knows Steve always forgets his (he did).
Steve's waiting nervously in the dressing room after the show. Moves around. Doesn't know what to do with his hands suddenly. But as soon as the door swings open it doesn't matter.
Eddie is on him in seconds, a blur of hair and flailing limbs before he collides with Steve. And then they're both crying, holding each other, swaying on the spot. Eddie breaks first, sobs,
"Are you staying?" He sniffles, hands moving over Steve's face, wiping his tears. Steve's already nodding, smiling, and crying, and wiping at Eddie's face too.
"Yeah. Yeah for as long as you'll have me." Steve laughs, sobs, pulls Eddie close again. Eddie kisses his shoulder and squeezes him and then pulls back and looks... shy? His cheeks are flushed from crying but he won't meet Steve's eyes when he says,
"Good. Cuz I might have done something crazy." Eddie says, giving a small smiley cringe as he finally looks at Steve.
"Crazy like not playing a new single on late night tv so you can serenade me with Matchbox Twenty?" Steve laughs, his heart pounding, feeling giddy. Eddie laughs, kisses Steve, pulls back, his head shaking.
"Oh it's way crazier than that." Eddie laughs, his eyes wild.
"Oh god what did you do?" Steve laughs, feeling manic, his hands not leaving Eddie, holding onto his arms.
"I bought a house." Eddie says, laughs, high in his throat.
"You-"
"I bought, us, a house. You and me." Eddie nods, cups Steve's cheeks.
"I meant what I said. I wanted you to come home. I just... hadn't mentioned that I bought one, for you to come home to." Eddie's smile wavers for a moment, and Steve barks a laugh.
"You bought us a house." He says through his laughter, Eddie smile coming back, it starts soft, and then gets big, wide, bright and shiny the way Steve loves it.
"I did, yeah." He's still nodding, cheeks dimpled as Steve clings to him, still laughing.
"We have a house!" He yells at the ceiling as he starts jumping in place.
"We have a house!" Eddie echoes, jumping along with him. They keep saying it, laughing, and jumping, and holding on to each other as they shout their excitement, giggling maniacally.
Eddie carries Steve over the threshold of their new home a week later. The rest of there tour cancled as the boys and the party all help them move in. It's nothing crazy, bigger than Steve's childhood home, but nothing too theatrical, surprisingly. It's out in the woods a ways, because Steve, despite all the shit that went down in Hawkins, loves being in the woods, in nature.
Steve cries off an on all day, because the house is perfect. Eddie had some personal touches added before they got there. It's the perfect mix of the both of them.
Steve settles into bed after they have everything unpacked, Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his nose buried in Steve's hair, feeling warm, and loved, and so fucking happy he has a place to call home. So fucking happy that the man he calls home, wanted a home with him.
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MC being a Morally grey menace Part 1
It started on their second visit to the Devildom...
During that first year of the exchange program, Lucifer and Diavolo had gone out of their way to hide the more unsightly aspects of the Devildom. But the second time around, when the human just fell from the sky, they didn't exactly have the time to smooth things over.
And yet, MC hadn't batted an eye.
The first incident was when MC walked in on one of Lucifer and Diavolo's meetings, but they weren't alone.
The low-level demon's eyes lit up, and his expression went from pleading to maniacal. This human was everyone's soft spot, surely the prince and his Lord of Pride wouldn't sully themselves in front of their precious human!
"Sorry, did you two hear that Simeon-? Oi!" MC startled as the demon threw himself at their feet.
"Mercy, dear human! Surely you could find it in your heart to grant mercy to this poor, foolish demon!"
Lucifer stepped forward, but even he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do next, apart from yanking that demon away from his human. Diavolo braced to start explaining why this demon was in his office, clad in chains.
But MC, dear, human, MC who should have damn well had some questions about this impromptu torture session they just walked in on, didn't so much as bat an eye.
Lifting a foot, they took one step sideways out of the demon's reach and carried on talking.
"Simeon wanted to ask you two something, just text him when you're done with...this." They gestured vaguely to the crumpled demon on the floor.
"Please, you CAN'T leave me here!"
MC didn't so much as look at him, making their way back to the door. "Don't work too hard boys! And don't forget you're on dinner duty tonight, Lucifer."
"...Of course." Lucifer watched, wide-eyed, as the human calmly walked out the door. He wondered how much explaining he'd need to do later.
To his surprise, the subject was never brought up, and MC's behaviour was utterly unchanged.
Well...not entirely unchanged.
The following week, a couple of locations to one of the Devildom's most popular chains came up with reports of missing inventory and Grimm coming up short.
A robbery, they didn't know by whom.
That week, MC and Mammon had been joined at the hip, even more so than usual, so out of pure curiosity Satan cornered the human in the morning making breakfast.
"These robberies. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you, dearest?"
MC shrugged. "Not a thing."
"Truly? Because a rather large sum of grim is now missing, and you've been spending an awful lot of time with Mammon lately."
MC looked up at Satan, and their eyes flashed golden, their grin almost inhuman. "Not like they'll miss it. They're a multi-million grim company that doesn't pay their employees enough to live."
Satan hardly believed his ears. "MC did you-?"
MC chuckled, and went right back to the eggs they were frying. "I don't know what you're talking about, love. Now help me carry these out."
Satan could have asked more questions, hell, he probably should have, but quite frankly, he's more impressed than anything else, and very much wants to know how they bypassed the security systems next time.
Part 2
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mj0702 · 6 months
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The other Bronze – Part 14
For Lunatic... I hope you're doing better and I hope you read this and find some comfort in it - mom and dad love you to the most and back Lunatic ♥️♥️
Sarina parked it just a little bit away from the hotel and turned in her seat to look at you
“We still need to talk Liefje” Sarina said sternly pulling you back into the car
“Don't worry – I found a weak link” you said happily
“Not what I was thinking about but.. good job” the dutch said “.. Leah said you tried to kill yourself – I want to know why”
“Seriously... I swear that was a one time thing and I'm better now” you said upset
“Not what I asked... I want to know WHY” the blonde stayed stricter
“I... I felt so alone... Lucy was gone... Keira just moved to Barcelona.... I mean the girls a great but... they're not Luce or Kei... somehow me stupid brain convinced me that they left and broke up because of me... and that they wouldn't care if I was around or not... so I got some pills from grandmas cabinet and just took them all...” you said not looking at the dutch
“... and then?” Sarina said lowly
“... I got scared... like... I suddenly knew that it was a mistake... so I wanted to call Hempo but I clicked the wrong number... got Leila on the phone.. I didn't knew her very well just in passing – but she came... she asked me where I am after I cried into the phone that I'm scared. I even called her Laurie... you know... she didn't KNOW me – but she came...and before I knew it I threw up... I'm basically still alive because of her... Lei then called Hempo... mills turned from that moment....” you recapped the night it all happened
“But why Liefje.... you know you could always come to me – or to one of us” Sarina tried again to understand you
“I can't tell you why Mama Rina.... I don't know... I just felt so alone... but I swear I never ever thought about it again” you stressed out
“If you EVER feel the need to do something like that again I want you to call me” the blonde took your hand strongly and with her second hand she made you look at her “Okay?”
“Okay... I promise...” you nodded lightly
“Good... so... that weak link....” Sarina smiled slightly
“Now or after dinner? Because I AM kind of hungry” you look embarrassed
Sarina laughed out loud but nodded anyway
“Of course Liefje... come on now” she laughed as the two of you exit the car
The dutch laid her arm around your shoulders pulling you into her side as the two of you walked the short distance to the Hotel. You laid your head on her shoulder enjoying the rare moment of peace you get with the head coach.
“Hey... hey y/n... we saved you a seat!!!!” you heard Tooney before you saw her
“Go” Sarina smiled lovingly as she released you from her hold
You sprinted over to the table quickly sliding into the chair between Less and Tooney before Keira or Leah could grab you. You sat opposite to your girlfriend sending her a small smile knowing Lucy was watching you two with hawk eyes. Suddenly you felt your chair being pulled back a little bit. You squeaked surprised as you felt the chair being lifted.
“You really think I would let you sit at the kids table??” you heard Keira as you looked up you saw Millie and Mary holding the sides of your chair about a foot in the air
“Sorry BB” Millie smiled apologetic “She has dirt on me”
“You can't be serious” you exclaimed trying to slip off the chair
“You will get the same food at my table” Keira said dry as she nodded her head and Millie and Mary started to carry you (chair included) over to the grown up table and dispose you next to your sister while Keira sat down to your other side
“I don't wanna sit here” you whined “This table is boring”
“Excuse me? Do I look like I care? The last time you three sat next to each other you got us kicked out of a restaurant” Keira said nonchalantly
“It was NOT our fault that the flame thingy fell over and set the table on fire” you said upset
“You prodded it the whole time even after I told you to leave it alone” Keira now growled
“I found it fascinating.. the flame was blue” you said ashamed
“Give up Bubs... you stuck with us for tonight” Lucy now sighed “She won't let you go back”
“You can overrule her... sister tops...” you said hopefully
“Oh Bitsy... your sister tops absolutely nothing” Keira smiled sweetly as she lightly slapped your cheek “Now eat”
You looked down on your plate and pulled a disgusted face
“What's that?” you prodded at your food
“Chicken” Keira said as she started to eat
“THAT is not chicken...” you pointed at the light hill on your plate
“That's the rice with sauce” Keira rolled her eyes “That is the chicken” she said as she pushed the rice a little aside
“And that green stuff... I don't do green stuff..” you argued again choosing the difficult route today – she wanted a kid. She'll get a kid.
“Spinach” Leah now answered as her best had her mouth full
“Ew no... not eating that” you huffed leaned back in your chair crossing your arms in front of your chest
“Suit yourself... go to bed hungry” Keira shrugged her shoulders “If you ever THINK of throwing a fit later because you're hungry you and I will have a private talk and you know these never end good for you”
“I want food... not... that” you pouted and whined
“Bitsy come on... you're not three... just eat” Keira said and you heard that she's about to lose her last nerve with you
Still you shake your head not moving towards the plate again
“Bubs come on... you haven't eaten since breakfast” Lucy now tried the nice approach – good cop, bad cop “You must be hungry”
“I AM... but I want something tasty” you whined
“It's very tasty... just try it... for me?” your sister spoke softly smiling hopefully.
“Hey Pumpkin... you interested in a deal?” now Beth interrupted the interaction knowing how important it was to get some food into you
“Listening” you answered and glanced at her
“Two forks equals one stroopwaffle... if you finish your plate – spinach included a whole extra pack” Meado smiled encouraging
“One fork one waffle” you shot back
“No can do... two for one...” Beth leaned back in her chair grinning
“Two extras at final whistle then” you tried your luck again
“I'll give you two extras if you eat your salad too” the brown haired woman smirked
“Okay now you're pushing it” you huffed out
“Two for one and an extra if you finish the plate” Meado leaned forward extending her hand.
“Two extras” you said seriously
“Nope... no deal” Beth said as she pulled her hand back
“Okay okay... two for one and one extra” you said quickly nearly jumping on the table to grab Beth hand “but from the good shop in Amsterdam”
“Deal” Meado grinned as she saw Keira mouthing a “thank you” towards her
You recutlanty started to pick up some rice and chicken with your fork. Everyone at the table knew you were a picky eater. Always have been and always will be – but if you had found something you liked you would eat like a harvester. But also you would go days without actual food if there was nothing you would find interesting. You carefully brought the fork to your lips just to feel the usual knot in your stomach putting the silverware down quickly
“No... sorry... can't do it” you said as you quickly stood up basically fleeing the table and the room.
Everyone looked after you confused. The first one who reacted was in fact Georgia as she pushed her chair back with such a force that it fell over backwards running after you. Lucy tried to run after the two of you but got stopped by Keiras hand on her arm
“Leave them...” the blonde said softly
“But what if...” Lucy tried
“If what...” Leah asked now
“If G takes advantage of her state – we know how fragile she is at the moment” your sister said a little stressed
“Excuse me?” Keira said shocked “That's G we're talking about – you know damn well this girl has a heart of gold and as big as five field... and she's not the brightest sometimes... she doesn't even know what it means to take advantage of someone”
“I'm just....” your sister defended herself
“I know... but you need to let her grow up... it's not easy for me either but let her be Luce” Keira said softly
You quickly sprinted outside the hotel actually jumping over some luggage which was standing around from guests just checking in. Once outside you looked around frantically as you saw the next best bush. You quickly got over there and just started to throw up. This was how your girlfriend found you. Hunched over a bush heaving loudly. Wordless she stood next to you rubbing small soothing circles on your back offering silent support. After a few minutes you got yourself up right again and leaned backwards against the wall
“What happened” G asked keeping her voice down
“Just got too much” you mumbled closing your eyes “Thank you”
“For what?” Georgia asked confused
“Coming after me...” you murmured suddenly feeling tired and exhausted
“I'll always come after you – and if I have to run to the end of the world” your girlfriend answered whispering as she both manoeuvred you into a sitting position
“Sap” you smiled with your eyes closed but leaning against her “We probably shouldn't be so close – what if fans see?”
“Let them... don't care” your girlfriend mumbled back “only care about you right now”
“You would...” you started
“Don't care... you're important to me, you know?” she interrupted you quickly knowing where this conversation would go if she'd let you go on
“You're important to me too G...” you said serious “... that's why we need to talk”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Georgia asked and you heard the panic in her voice
“No... no... but you might want to break up with me after that talk” you mumbled
“Did... did something happened... with someone... in Barcelona?” your girlfriend asked unsure
“Yes... that too... but not like you think” you sighed knowing you can't push that conversation further away anymore “But you need to promise me to let me finish and not interrupt me”
“Okay...” Georgia said carefully
You took a deep breath before you started to talk
“I'm telling you this because you are so SO important to me – not even Kei knows this... or god forbid Lucy... did I ever tell you why Leila and I are so close?” you looked at her and G shook her head before you continued “She saved me G... literally... she saved my life... two years ago, when Kei moved to Spain too... I felt so alone... I know Toons was there... and Less... and Leah... and all of them... but in the same time no one was there... it was bad enough to lose Lucy to Spain.. But I still had Keira... but when she moved too – it broke me G... I know she had to for her career... and I would never ever blame her for what happened but it broke me. I had no one to go to – I was still laborating on my ACL and I didn't know what to do. I fell G and I fell hard. I was rock bottom and I didn't know how to get back on top again...” you started to feel the tears threatening to fall “... so I got all the pills my mom had in her cabinet threw them all in a bag mixed them up and just took a handful... and suddenly I got so SO scared... the sensible part of my brain asked me if I'm bloody serious to choose the easy way out. Out of panic I wanted to call Hempo of all people – you know how she would react in a situation like that. She would panic herself. But she was the nearest to where I was. I pressed the wrong contact and Leila answered the call. Don't know why but she did. I didn't even realized my mistake and just started sobbing into the phone what I just did and that I'm scared and where I am and to please help me”
You were full on crying now. Not the loud outgoing cry, just silently as your tears run down your cheeks onto falling onto your shirt
“I don't know how much time went past but suddenly I got yanked up from the bench I was sitting on and the person just bend me over and made me throw up.... wasn't the nicest thing in the world. After I came by a little more I realized Leila was the one holding me bend over asking me if I think that it was all of it or if there's some left in my stomach because she WILL shove her fingers down my throat again if she had to... told her I think that everything is out and she basically carried me to her car. She told me she's going to get me into hospital and who she should call. Told her Hempo – I knew the chain would work its way to Leah. Leila got me to the Hospital told them what happened and they took care of me. When I woke up the next morning Leah and Meado were sitting next to my bed. Leah looked like death heated over twice. Meado wasn't far behind. I felt so guilty that I started crying . Woke them both up with my sobbing. Leah informed me that they'll take me back with them – already talked to my mom and dad about it. She also told me that they told them it's because she thinks a change of scenery would benefit me – dad agreed knowing how hard I took Lucys moving. Went back to London with them and god – Leah can be worse than a jail guard... I went to therapy... three times a week... it was always Leah or Beth picking me up afterwards... until it was Millie and somehow with Millie I just broke down. I held it together for Lee and Meado... but Millie with her calm persona and just being there – I think I cried for hours. Woke up in Meados guestroom... was the first time I met Viv officially as the girlfriend. It got better after that day – really better. Leah basically held me hostage for another six month – she even made me join her at the Arsefacility for light workouts. Let me tell you they have all that great stuff in their gym and still are shit” you smiled through your tears keeping your eyes fixed straight ahead staring into nothing so you didn't see your girlfriend crying too “ … and then a few days in Barcelona I had a full blown anxiety attack because Mapí played a ball wrong and it came at me. I got it under control played it back to Kei before even realizing what I was doing and then all of them were looking at me like I just scored a World cup winner... got to much and everyone of them saw.. I tell you because I know Sarina wants a friendly against Spain end to camp – when she announces it you act surprised – and they will ask if everything is okay... because that's how they are... It was weird at the begin...”
Suddenly your conversation got roughly interrupted by your sister who pulled G up by her shirt away from you already started yelling at her. You got scared for a second before you quickly jumped to your feet going after your sister who had your girlfriend pinned to the wall by now. Georgia was white her eyes wide as Lucy kept yelling at her
“What have you done Stanway??? I listened to Keira and let YOU go after her to find her crying her eyes out” your sister yelled in Georgias face pushing her harder against the wall
“Lucy please... it wasn't her” you begged your sister tugging on her arm “it wasn't her and it's not because of her... Luce please”
But it was no use since Lucy just saw red. She just came out to check on you knowing you always need air when you feel trapped. What she saw broke her heart and made her blood boil. She saw you crying and your girlfriend just sitting next to you doing nothing. It was irrational she knew but she swore to protect you and if it costed it the place on the national team than she would pay that price but she won't let anyone hurt you.
“Lucy.... please” you tried again as fresh tears sprung to your eyes and again your plea fell to deaf ears as your sister continued to ignore you in favor of yelling at your girlfriend
So you looked around for help and spotted Keira and Leah at the elevators on the other side of the lobby. You quickly ran over to the doors who opened and yelled through the hotel lobby
“Keira!!!” you hoped to get her attention. Your voice must have sounded so distressed that Keira turned around quickly – Leah following suit and she spotted you standing in the automatic door “Help” you said louder but not yelling level.
Keira took off towards you before you could turn around Leah hot on her heels as you went over and tried to get Lucy off Georgia again. Keira and Leah came exit the hotel and quickly saw what brought you to such distress. They immediately got into action mode pushing themselves between Lucy and Gs bodies. You were still trying to tug your sisters arm off Georgias shirt. Thank god Keira and Leah were much more successful (perks of knowing how to separate players from experience) and quickly got your sister and girlfriend separated. You immediately went over to your girlfriend who was still rooted in place shock and fright clear on her face.
“You okay?” you asked lowly “She didn't hurt you did she?”
“Just shaken up... didn't see that coming” Georgia said back lightly shaking
You let Keira and Leah deal with Lucy while you checked your girlfriend over once more needing to make sure she really was not injured. After you were satisfied with your check you turned around seeing Keira poking Lucys chest furiously on the other side of the entrance. Leah stood nearly in the middle of the two parties having an eye on both sides. She met your eye and you let her know that everything was okay and even tho G was shaken up she was not injured. At the way Keira was now waving her hands around and your sister looking ashamed and guilty you knew Kei was pissed and Lucy was at the receiving end. You saw Leah coming over to you and stepped into your field of vision
“Are you okay?” the captain asked concerned
“Yeah... just... got a little scared... don't know what got into her” you mumbled
“Keira is sorting it out right now” Leah said lowly “You okay G?”
“Yeah...” your girlfriend nodded slightly
“You want to report it to Sarina? Or want me to tell her?” Leah asked seriously “You're calling it G... I don't know what happened but I know you didn't provoke her so Lucy laying her hands on you...”
“No...” your girlfriend interrupted her friend “... I just want to talk to her... alone”
“Are you sure G?” Leah asked again
“Yes I'm sure...” Georgia nodded again “... I don't want her thrown of the team Lee... I just want to know why”
“Your call G...” Leah sighed and called over “Kei... lets go” before looking at you “You come with us”
“Da Fuck I will” you said stubborn
“Babe it's okay... let me sort this out okay...” your girlfriend said calmly
“I swear Lucy... if you even as much as look at her the wrong way I will end you” you sneered as you passed your sister getting pulled along by Leah
You don't know how much time passed as you watched through the big glass windows as your girlfriend and sister having a talk outside the hotel with you inside the lobby
“Calm down Bitsy...” Keira said as she pulled you into her side “... G's a big girl... she can handle it”
“I know... but Kei... Luce basically attacked her with no reason” you huffed but let Keira comfort you a little bit
“I know it sounds like a cheap excuse but... she just got scared about your well-being... I KNOW you are also a big girl Bitsy... but you'll always be her little girl... she's trying Bitsy... but seeing you cry made her snap” the blonde mumbled as she pulled you closer
“But it wasn't because of G... I told her what happened in Barcelona and I couldn't stop the tears... G had nothing to do with it” you said as fresh tears starting to form in your eyes “and she didn't listen... Lucy didn't listen to me... I can't do this Kei... I can't have my sister and my girlfriend fighting... or my sister fighting my girlfriend – she needs to stop”
“She will Bitsy... it just takes some time for her to come to terms with it... she's not good with change either – where do you think you got it from?” Keira smiled slightly
After what seemed like forever in your mind you got surprised as you saw your sister and girlfriend hugging. Not an awkward hug. It was a full on bear hug. Like the hugs you only accept from a few people in your life – full of love and unspoken promises. You watched as they parted again but Lucy kept her arm around Gs shoulders as they walked back into the lobby stopping right in front of Keira and you
“You two dating now?” you asked raising an eyebrow
“Yeah about that babe...” Georgia smirked playing along
“It's fine... I'll just take your best friend then...” you waved off starting to grin
“Does Leah know about this?” Keira now asked faking confusion
“Not talking about Leah” you smirked as you pressed yourself further into the blonde
“That... looks so wrong” Lucy looked horrified
“YOU asked me if it was Keira!!” you exclaimed accusingly
“and THAT was a genuine mistake...” your sister defended herself quickly “... but you made it looked like it was!”
“I was just wearing her shorts!!!” you bantered back
“What in our world means that you're basically engaged!!!” Luce fired back
“Where's my ring?” you turned to Keira expectantly raising your eyebrow again
“EXCUSE ME?!” Georgia exclaimed fake shocked “You're engaged and making moves on me?? Keira I swear I didn't know”
“Meeh... it's alright G... thought I give her the chance to get it out of her system before tying her down... because that's over then... and she was drooling over you for a long time” Keira waved off before all of you bursted out laughing
“Luce...” you said getting serious again “... you can't do that... you can't freak out like that again”
“I know... I'm sorry Bubs... It's just...” your sister tried to explain but couldn't find the right words so Keira helped her out
“It's not easy for us Bitsy... we love you so much and even if we KNOW that G would never ever hurt you – seeing you cry is hard for us” the blonde said as she started to scratch the back of your neck lightly “.... we went through so much together that we just want to protect you – and again... we know that that one wouldn't hurt you on purpose but still... seeing you crying and in distress just flips a switch... the difference is that I have WAY more self-control than your sister” Keira explained quietly
“I'll never hurt her I promise” G said quickly her eyes wide
“I know G... I know you'll never hurt her on purpose but there will be hurt... because that's how a relationship works – it's not always sunshine and rainbows... you both have to work for it and you have to communicate” Keira said serious “We'll always be there to support you and if you want give advice – you're both young and we know what it's like to be separated for some time...”
“Thanks Kei” you mumbled into her shoulder
“Always Bitsy...” she smiled as she pressed a kiss to your forehead “And G”
“Yeah?” your girlfriend asked weary
“For god sakes... grow some balls and defend your girl” Keira said sternly “Lucy can take some bollocking – because that will be something she has to deal with when we're back in Spain anyway”
“I have to what?” your sister asked horrified knowing Keira doesn't fuck about
“We'll have a talk when we're back... just you and me... in private” the blonde informed your sister who shrunk back a little under the intense stare of her ex-girlfriend
“Uuuuhhh... someone is in troooouuuble” you sing-songed snickering
“You want to be added to the list?” Keira raised her eyebrow looking down at you
“Yeah no thank you” you quickly said sheepishly
“Thought so... now off you go... it's late and it was an eventful day – I can see and feel the exhaustion from you” the blonde scoffed before pushing you off her slightly
“Luce” you whined and your sister immediately turned around to give you a piggy back ride
You unceremoniously climbed on her back letting her carry you to the elevator getting you to your room while Keira and G stayed behind
“I'm sorry for what happened G” Keira started
“It's okay Kei...” Georgia waved off
“No it's not G... it's not okay what Lucy did” the blonde interrupted her best friend quickly “... she shouldn't have reacted that way... and I promise you it'll never happen again I make sure of it... but I want you to understand that Bitsy is her everything – Lucy wouldn't think twice to jump in front of a truck for her... both of us wouldn't think twice but Lucy would be quicker. She went through so much and never actually talked about it or grieved you know – when she got the news of it being her ACL again and this time she's forced to stop playing... she just... sat there” Keira said remembering the day as if it happened yesterday “... she just sat there – 13 years old... blank face... shrugging her shoulders – Lucy and I kept it together until we were home and then first Lucy broke and then me... but her... she just – I don't want to say accepted it but she just bottled it up... she lost her spark that day – and slowly it's coming back... you are the reason for that G... you don't know it but you help her heal more than Lucy and I could in the last three years”
“I... didn't do anything” your girlfriend said confused
“You treat her right G... and that's enough for her” Keira smiled slightly
“I nearly didn't... you know... if it wasn't for her stubbornness” Georgia admitted shyly
“What do you mean? And yes... everyone with the name Bronze is stubborn as fuck” the blonde said rolling her eyes
“She kissed me you know... after the Euros... I was... drunk... but sober enough to kinda realize what’s happening... I pulled her outside the locker room and told her this can't happen..” your girlfriend explained to her best friend “... I told her she's too young and this isn't what she wants... she told me she may be young but she definitely knows what she wants... and that's me... she was so adamant... but I pushed her away a few time... until she showed up at me apartment in Munich – god only knows where she got the info from where I live – and just TOLD me that she won't accept me saying “no” anymore and she'll definitely won't let me run away and hide anymore... my whole self-control broke that moment....”
“So you did have sex with her before her birthday... because that's what she told Luce... that you waited till her birthday” Keira questioned
“No... god no... I didn't touch her that way before her birthday... I swear Kei... I mean there were some moments where it nearly got to that point but I stopped... I SWEAR K...” Georgia said quickly
“G... even if you did have sex with her before... it's in the past and nothing can change it... I know how the Bronze women can be... once they have something set their mind on it takes an army to get them to get them off the rails... it doesn't matter if it's Lucy or Bitsy or Sophie or Diane...” Keira smiled “... you will experience that in future a few times – and I wish you good luck and already feel sorry for you at the same time... but what Luce did earlier is still not okay”
“We talked it out K... I swear it's okay... she promised to hold back” your girlfriend assured
“You could talk to Sarina...” Keira said but this time Georgia interrupted her
“No... she apologized we talked it out... done and dusted... I understand her Kei... I really do... because if I see someone making me girlfriend cry I would snap too” your girlfriend waved off
“Great...” Keira mumbled “... another one I have to keep an eye on... the next time I get asked what I would do if I don't play professionally football anymore I say “zookeeper”... got plenty of experience in keeping wild animals under control”
Georgia burst out laughing and offered her best friend her hand to pull her off the couch. Keira accepted the hand gladly and let G pull her into a standing position.
“You're getting old Walsh” Georgia teased when Keira groaned getting pulled into an upright position
“No... I'm just over the whole shite” Keira grumbled as she turned around to leave
“Love you Walsh” G yelled after her
“Love you Stanway” Keira yelled back making Georgia smile
Lucy noticed you were asleep before you two even made it to your room. The way your head slowly sank deeper onto her shoulder was a clear indicator – as well as your light snoring and the occasional smacking of your lips. Your sister “knocked” on the door using her foot adjusting her hold on you. LJ opened annoyed but perked up immediately when she saw Lucy
“Yeah?” LJ asked
“Just here to deliver Bubs...” Lucy said being a little icy towards the younger player
“Oh... okay” LJ said stepping aside letting Lucy in
Your sister disposed you carefully and with practical ease on the bed and started to pull your socks and trousers off your legs
“She's 16... I think she's capable of undressing herself” LJ bit a little too harsh which caused Lucy to narrow her eyes at her teammate
“I am aware... but I also know her... look LJ... I don't know what your twos problem is but when it comes down to it – she's my baby sister... and whoever hurts her better makes his last will because I won't have it...” Lucy said seriously as she made sure your scars were covered quickly
“Lucy... I know that okay... and yes we're not really friends anymore” LJ started and Lucy snorted “... but I think we can be civil with each other.. I mean you and me know she swapped my cleats and I did nothing to her did I now”
“I really like you as a person and a player LJ...” Lucy sighed before pressing a kiss to your head “... but again.. she's my baby sister”
“We will figure it out” LJ said and if you weren't asleep you would've bursted out laughing – because from your side there was no “figuring it out”
“Morning” you greeted Meado at the elevators the next morning
“Morning pumpkin” Beth greeted back giving you a once over “You okay?”
“Gettin there... need coffee” you said slowly clearly still half asleep as you felt Meado putting her arm over your shoulders pulling you into her side
“Pumpkin I know you don't want to hear it but I need you to eat something too okay... I know you can go longer than 24 without food but it's not healthy” Beth said a little concern in her voice.
She as well haven't forgotten what happened two years ago. How Leah called her full on sobbing that she needs to get to Manchester as quick as possible but she can't go on her own because she probably would crash the car. Of course Beth immediately was on board picking Leah up not even 15 Minutes later. Leah was an emotional mess. Meado actually didn't find out what happened until there were about 30 Minutes out of Manchester. And when Leah finally told her – Beth nearly lost control over the car. So yes – your well-being also was important to her.
“Yeah I know... yesterday was just...” you started ashamed
“... emotional... I know...” Meado finished for you smiling slightly
“Morning” you heard suddenly as Keira stood behind the two of you
“Morning Kei” Meado said happily while you just grunt in response
“Come here Bitsy” Keira said lovingly opening her arms knowing you always need longer and more importantly physical contact in the mornings
The elevator arrived and all three of you entered it to go down to breakfast. One floor down Millie and Rach entered the elevator and you immediately whined for Millie to carry you. As usual you had everyone wrapped around your finger and so it happened that you got carried to the breakfast room where surprisingly Sarina waited for you with a coffee in your hand
“We need to talk, Liefje” the dutch said you still clutched to Millies back pushing the mug into your hands “So ex that and with me”
“What did you do to make the big boss angry?” Millie asked confused as she set you down looking after Sarina who was just leaving
“You're guess is as good as mine” you shrugged your shoulders downing the coffee shuffling after the dutch into an empty meeting room
“What can I do for you great masteress of lionesses?” you tried to lighten the mood
“What happened yesterday?” Sarina came straight to the point looking at you expectantly
“Huh?” you looked at her confused
“Why were two of my best players at each other throats AGAIN yesterday after dinner?” the dutch said and you knew not to fuck about
“There was a misunderstanding” you said carefully
“Elaborate” Sarina said seriously and you noticed she's getting angry
“I told G about what happened... two years ago... and in Barcelona... because I wanted to be honest with her... I started crying... I didn't even noticed I was crying... and suddenly Lucy was there having a go at G... but Kei and Leah took care of it” you spilled immediately trying to low the blow
“Okay... okay...” the dutch sighed out massaging her temples
“I didn't mean too” you said quickly feeling incredibly guilty
“It's not your fault... but I need to talk to both of them... this can't go on” Sarina said seriously “I can't have my squad fighting each other”
“I know” you sighed ashamed “... I don't know what's going on with Lucy... because G did nothing and Luce is constantly out for her...”
“Your sister is protective, Liefje” Sarina said softly “And it's hard for her to see you dating”
“But... I'm not a baby anymore” you said desperately
“Liefje... you were with her your whole life – there were rumours that you are her daughter instead of her sister” the dutch chuckled
“Ugh” you gagged slightly
“I want something else from you” Sarina now leaned against the big table
“Ehrm... I feel honoured but... Ehrm... you are a little to... experienced for me Mama Rina” you stuttered scratching the back of your neck
“Dear god kiddo... it's not all about sex in life...” the dutch rolled her eyes “... I want you to come up with a exercise for training – teamwork and communication”
“Why are you including me so much...” you asked a little confused
“Because I know how great you can be – you always sell yourself short... I want you to realize how amazing you are and live it” Sarina said softly “... and I want to inform you that we indeed have a friendly against Spain in 10 days”
“Yes... I really want to face them” you said happily “... I really want Less and Toons to meet Mapí”
“Liefje... I will put you on a leash you if you plan on doing something stupid” the dutch pointed her finger at you
“I just want to.... cultivate international relations...” you said carefully
“You want to cause trouble – I will talk to Lucy about your harness... what was the name?” Sarina waved off
“Bronzo” you murmured defeated
“Ah yes... now... I want you to come up with an exercise and a strategy for the game against Spain” the dutch said and you know your little “meeting” was over
“Yes Mama Rina” you sighed already thinking about different drills
“Oh and y/n?” Sarina held you back as you were about to leave
“Yes?” you looked up a little shocked
“Send your sister and girlfriend in” the dutch smirked and winked at you
“Will do” you smiled widely “With pleasure”
“BRONZE!!! STANWAY!!” you yelled when you entered the breakfast room and all heads snap towards you
“Big Bossies wants to talk to you” you nodded towards the meeting room
Both your sisters and your girlfriends face went white as they stood up walking slowly past you with Georgia stopping shortly
“Are we out?” G whispered lowly
“Don't think so... but I can't say for sure” you whispered back grabbing her hand and squeezing it encouraging
“If that's the case I'll still be around – we can invade Leahs apartment” Georgia smiled lightly but you saw right through it
“She won't kick you out.. she'll kick your ass and that's it... she knows it's not you who causes trouble... it's Luce” you leaned up quickly pressing a kiss to your girlfriends cheek
“STANWAY!!” now Sarina yelled down the corridor
Georgia quickly let go of your hand and ran down the corridor.
“They're in trouble?” Keira asked you as you plopped down in the chair next to her inspecting Keiras plate who immediately pushed it towards you
“Yeah.... somehow Sarina knows about yesterday” you mumbled “... hey Kei?”
“Yes Bitsy?” the blonde smiled at you
“Can I have eggs?” you asked embarrassed
“Of course Bitsy.. why do you ask?” Keira looked at you confused
“Don't know.... just feel like it” you shrugged your shoulders
“Come on Bits... let's get you some breeki hm?” the blonde smiled encouraging and pulled you out of your chair leading you over to the buffet
“Take whatever you want Bitsy.... just... don't load your plate Bronze style” Keira smiled as you went over all the option
“Eggs... bacon...” you mumbled to yourself
“Something healthy” Keira threw in
“Guac....” you mumbled deep in thoughts “Uuuuhhh.... donuts”
“No” Keira smiled sweetly
“But” you whined childish
“No Bitsy... take some fruit and we're good” the blonde grinned
“But you said whatever I want” you whined again
“No donuts... you didn't do anything today what would justify a donut” Keira said and you knew you lost the donut for good
You sighed heavy and took an apple from the fruit basket
“Uuuuhhh... mom put her foot down” Rachel laughed as you passed they're table
Keira pushed you to walk on when she noticed you wanted to start arguing with the blonde and lead you back to your table. After you sat down you looked down on your plate with the apple next to it. You picked up the apple looked at it for a second before throwing it towards Rachel hitting her straight in the back of the head which caused the whole table (especially Millie) to interrupt in loud laughter and Rachel to swear loudly. Keira scolded you lightly but smiled nonetheless
Lucy, Georgia and Sarina entered the room. The two players looked like drowned puppies while the Head coach smiled satisfied. Georgia immediately took a detour towards Tooneys and Less table which caused you to frown. Lucy sat down opposite to you and you watched her closely
“All good?” you asked
“All good” your sister answered before continuing to eat
“Okay Girls... this was a really good training so far” Sarina yelled over the field clapping her hands
“Our new addition here” she pulled you next to and in to a hug “will have the honour for the last exercise of the day”
All Lionesses looked at you expectantly and you suddenly felt a little shy
“I didn't agree to your offer” you mumbled shyly
“You will” Sarina smiled happily “I'm pretty positive about it – now go and show them what you got”
“Okay Ladies... and Lucy” you said loudly grinning after the little pep talk
“Hey!!” your sister exclaimed annoyed as the team began to chuckle
“Listen up... we're playing Hungry Hippo” you clapped your hands and Rachel “woohooed” loudly
“For everyone who doesn't know Hungry Hippo... it's simple... teams of three each... every team gets four balls... you have to defend your balls and also have to steal the balls of the other teams... team who is out of eggs first runs laps until the game is over” you explained quickly
“What's the goal of the game?” Niamh asked
“Goal of the game is to get all the balls in one “nest”... the goal of the exercise is teamwork and communication... you need to work together and communicate with each other” you explained “And before you ask... I put the teams together”
“Aaaawww maaaaan” you heard Less groan
“Walsh, Stanway, James” you rattled off ignoring one of your best friends
“Russo, Williamson, Toone” you smirked knowing you just got Leah back for the rooming incident
“WHAT??” the capitan exclaimed shocked
“YES!!” Tooney and Less high-fived
“Daly, Bright, Mearps” you continued and split all the players into teams
“Really?” Sarina asked under her breath but loud enough that you could hear her “Walsh, Stanway and James?”
“Kei and G are pissed at James – rightfully so but still need to learn to keep it off the pitch” you mumbled back
“Genius move – I need you in my team” Sarina smiled
“And you will.. I want Jill Scott as my guardian” you said off handy
“Done” the dutch answered quickly and smiled widely
“And we will talk about numbers... I want a good salary” you smirked at her
“You haven't even seen the contract and already start hackling?” Sarina laughed
“I saw Lucys contracts over the years... they were shit..” you pointed out
“We'll talk about it later... now let them run” the blonde dutch smiled and you grabbed her whistle successfully pulling the short woman closer to you and blew that whistle hard
Immediately there interrupted chaos on the field and you couldn't help but laugh loudly when Lucy rugby tackled Rachel to the ground who tried to steal a ball from your sisters nest. The little game continued for some while – for a hot second it looked like Keiras team was loosing since they did everything than communicating with each other but the recovered quickly and got some balls back. You also saw how different the teams approach their tactics to defend and retrieve. Team Bright for example had Mearps AND Bright on defending egg duty while Rach zipped around stealing balls. Lucys team had only Lucy for defence and Lotte and Meado for retrieval. It was honestly too funny and you turned around to the media team
“Oi edits.... get some footage of that... fans will love it” you laughed as they quickly scramble to get some of the chaos on video
“Hey.... hey you” you shouted over to a guy who stood there a little lost and when he turned towards you you waved him over
“What's your job here?” you asked but still keeping an eye on the field
“I'm... a trainee” the dirty blonde said shyly
“Okay... perfect... go get coffee for the big boss and myself.... she takes it black like her soul – strong... basically like oil... I want a latte” you said smiling
“Where do I find coffee?” the young bloke said getting even more shy
“In the meeting rooms should be coffee machines.... just... take some from there” you looked a little unsure yourself “Oh... and what's your name?”
“Finney... friends call me Finn” he now smiled getting a little more comfortable talking to you
“Yeah no.... I'll just call you Fren... we're Frens now” you waved off “everyone who brings me coffee is a Fren”
“Okay... I promise I bring the best coffee I can find” he smiled before sprinting off
“Already abusing your status I see” Sarina smirked next to you
“Don't tell me you had enough time this morning to actually fulfil your caffeine fix” you said rolling your eyes
“Of course I didn't... I had to put your sister and girlfriend through the wringer AND put them on probation.... I was THIS close to put them on the naughty step” the dutch mumbled annoyed
“I would have paid to see that” you bursted out laughing “OI STANWAY.... STOP PULLING LOTTES PANTS DOWN!!!!”
“JEALOUS???” Lotte yelled back holding onto her shorts for dear life with Georgia hanging on the hem of them shorts trying to pull them down once again
“Not at all” you yelled back laughing at their antics “She already knows how comfortable the couch is...”
You saw a few seconds later how team “Two best idiots + Leah” lost their last ball and you grabbed Sarinas whistle (and Sarina) again whistling loudly. All Lionesses froze in their place and you grinned
“I really enjoy this” you said loudly smirking evilly “... Capitan oh Capitan....” you said dramatically “... your team is the first loosing all their Hippo eggs... so... you and your mates.... off you scramble... laps until the game is over”
“You can't do that” Leah growled knowing fully well you actually can make her run
“Oh but I can... I said beforehand the first team without Hippo eggs will run laps, Williamson” you smirked enjoying having the upper hand for once extremly “... sooooo... run”
Less and Tooney already jogging away from you knowing they wouldn't get out of it anyway so they just accepted their fate. Leah on the other hand was adamant to prove a point now looking at Sarina
“She can't do that” Leah said sounding a little like a small child
“She can... I gave her the task of finding a exercise for teamwork and communication – which she did – and I authorized it.... she said before you all started what will happen and you lost.... get going Leah...” Sarina said calmly knowing when to back you up and when you can defend yourself
Leah started to jog away still mumbling and growling under her breath
“Thank you Mama Rina...” you mumbled as you accepted your coffee from Finn
“No need Liefje... you were in the right and just because Leah wants to pull the capitan card doesn't mean she can do that all the time” the dutch said softly also accepting her coffee from the young lad.
The leftover players on the field were still looking at you expectantly and you realized you didn't restart the game
“Sorry guys” you smiled embarrassed
“Wait...” Grace (Clinton) said quickly before you were able to blew the whistle again
“Yeah Hillary?” you looked at her smirking
“First... please don't....” she sighed “second... what does the winner get?”
“Oh... winner gets the afternoon off – and gets a cheat meal extra” you smiled shrugging your shoulders
“Excuse me?? I didn't agree to that” Sarina exclaimed surprised
“Yeah well... I just thought of that” you looked at her apologetic
“The things I let slide with you” the dutch rolled her eyes and waved her hand for you to continue
“Love you Mama Rina” you smiled pressing a soft kiss to her cheek
“Yeah yeah” the blonde murmured but a smile tugged on the edge of her lips
You blew the whistle again and immediately there interrupted chaos again – the game ended with a tie (you were made to stop it by Sarina) between Team Walsh and Team Bronze. Which surprised everyone – especially you but you did internally congratulate yourself for fulfilling the task of brining the team closer together.
The Bus ride was mostly quiet except for Georgia and Esme (who was on Lucys team) discussing rather loudly what they would have as their cheat meal with Rachel throwing in Gs direction
“Little Bronze doesn't count you know... you can eat her as much as you like” the blonde smirked and immediately got Lucys dirty sock thrown in her face while you bursted out laughing next to Mearps and Georgia turning fire red once again. Back at the Hotel everyone went to their rooms to shower and get ready for Lunch and eventual media assignments. Lunch went over without a hitch – if you ignore the fact that your sister shooed your girlfriend away again – and soon all of you got the plan for the rest of the day.
You entered the room which was officially dubbed the “common get together”-room finding Lucy, Keira, Mary, Less, Tooney, Niamh, Meado and LJ (who you honestly could do without) chilling around. Some of them were lounging on the couch while Tooney, Less and Niamh were placed at the table playing with some Legos. You made a beeline for your two bestest friends as Keira looked up from her book
“No” the blonde just said knowing letting you sit with them would end up in a Lego fight and you'd throw pieces at each other until one got either hurt or cried
“Keira cooooome ooooon” you whined which caused Tooney and Less to look up
“Yeah Keira... cooooome ooooon” Tooney whined too
“Come here Bubs” Lucy said from her place on the couch stretched her hand towards you trying to get you to come over to her “Wanna show you something”
“You can always show it to LJ” you pulled a face and your voice was laced with venom
“Huh?” your sister looked at you confused as you turned around now marching towards Tooney like you were on a mission
“Bitsy” Keira warned you raising her eyebrow in challenge
“I'm just gonna sit here” you said annoyed and the blonde noticed your grumpy mood
“No Lego fights!” the blonde looked at you threating
“Okay mom” the three of you answered simultaneously grinning
Soon after Less got called away by the media team for some... whatever, you didn't pay attention. Tooney and you continued to build on your Lego castle but as usual after like 30 minutes you both got bored
You just looked at each other communicating without words – like always. You both stood up at the same time looking around until your eyes fell on the dart board that was hung up on the other side of the room. Tooney and you tried to be as sneaky as possible as you slandered over to said piece of fun without noticing Keira watching every step you took. Just as you were about to pull the third dart out of the board so Toons and you could play a hand reached over your shoulder taking all darts away
“I told you... no sharp objects” you immediately reconized the voice of one Keira Walsh
“They're not sharp...” you pouted as you turned around to look at her with your best puppy eye look
“No pointy objects either” Keira smiled sweetly and you knew it was fake as fuck
“But... Tooney and I wanted to play” you pouted
“Tooney is banned from pointy objects too” the blonde just said hoping to end this topic
“Tooney is what?” Ella said confused
“The last time you whined for a WEEK that your finger nearly fell off” Keira rolled her eyes “So no darts for you either... find something else”
“Oh yeah.. I forgot about that... it was really close for me finger to fall off” Tooney said as she remembered her last interaction with darts
“Your bloody finger was fine” you exclaimed
“Bloody... that's the word you should emphasize... so much blood” Ella sighed
“Less nearly broke my nose.... THAT was bloody... your finger was just... trickling blood” you said upset
“If you don't stop to one up each other immediately I'm going to put you in different corners of the room” Keira interrupted your “fight”
“Sorry mom” both of you said
“Gosh... can't you two play nicely with each other for once?” the blonde rolled her eyes
“We tried... you wouldn't allow it” you tried to reason with her
“No sharp or pointy objects” Keira said again “Find something else”
You looked over at Tooney who just shrugged her shoulders
“Uh... there's a bowling thing in the basement... can we go bowling? Nothing sharp, nothing pointy” you said excited as Tooney started to beam
“Not without a responsible adult around” Keira said “And I'm not going down there with you”
“Millie and Rach are down there... I think” you said as you tried to convince Kei
“Lucy?” the blonde turned around to your sister
“Yeah?” Lucy looked up from her phone where she (most likely) texted with Ona
“I just spoke english did I?” Keira asked her ex
“Ehrm... yes? Why?” your sister asked confused
“Good... I just thought I switched to spanish without noticing it when I said them two nobbheads won't go bowling in the basement without a responsible adult and Bitsys answer was Millie and Rachel... I just wanted to double check that I in fact did use the english language” the blonde said and you groaned behind her knowing she just shut down your idea
“Oh no... you definitely spoke english” Lucy smirked
“Mary??” you asked hopefully looking at the keeper
“Yeah okay...” the tall brunette rolled her eyes but smiled noneless “I'll take you bowling”
“YES!!” you high fived Tooney “Mary counts as responsible, right?” you checked with Keira
“Yes... Mary counts as responsible” the blonde sighed actually hoping you'd find no body who would go with you so she could keep an eye on you
“Woohoo...” you cheered chasing after Tooney who already was sprinting towards the door
“No running” Mary yelled after you but it was no use as she stood up following the two of you
“I'll give them 20 Minutes” Keira said plopping down next to Lucy on the couch
“Naah... Mearps is good... Bubs respects Mearps.... 30” your sister grinned as she started a timer
32 Minutes later the door of the common room got kicked open and Mary carried you bridal style inside to cross the room with quick strides. Tooney was following after you apologizing profusely while you whined into Marys neck
“32 Minutes and 17 seconds” Lucy looked down on her phone grinning stopping the timer showing it to Keira
“Should we follow or just ignore that something went horribly wrong... as always when these two are left to their own?” the blonde sighed looking expectantly at Lucy
“Naah... she has Mearps with her...” your sister waved off smirking knowing you'll throw an absolute fit once one of the physios wants to touch whatever limp is hurting at the moment.
A minute later the door opens again and Mearps head appeared
“Luce... Kei.... Help... please? She bit the new physio already” the brown haired keeper pleaded with her teammates
“Rock paper scissors?” Lucy asked raising her eyebrow
“2 out of 3 or at first go?” Keira just asked back already getting ready
“First go... we don't have the time for 2 out of 3” your sister said getting ready as well.
“Okay Bubs... why are you causing trouble again?” your sister sighed as she entered the medic room “And what happened in the first place?”
“I want Keira” you sniffled
“Yeah well... Keira won rock paper scissors so here I am” Lucy shrugged sitting down on the exam table next to you
“Tooney threw the bowling ball on me foot” you whined and Lucy REALLY needed to bite her tongue to not burst out laughing – leave it to Tooney and you to actually get hurt by a bowling ball
“We just wanted to take a look but she wouldn't let us touch her foot” one of the Medics explained to your sister
“It's okay... I got it” your sister smiled as she sat down further down on the table putting your foot into her lap which caused you to whine and try to pull away
“No Bubs... let me look” Lucy said softly starting to undo your laces and carefully pulling your shoe off your sock following just after the shoe
“Okay... I'm no medic but it doesn't look broken...” your sister said looking up at you “We'll just let the pros have a look at it okay Bubs”
You knew it was a rhetorical question but that doesn't mean you couldn't answer anyway
“No no no no no” you shook your head quickly
“Yes... come on Bubs... just a quick once over and we're out of here again – I'll even get you some cookies” Lucy said softly knowing you needed reassurance right now
“Okay... but I want a donut... the chocolate one” you mumbled
“Of course” Lucy chuckled nodding to the medics
Just as she promised they just did a quick once over put some tape on your foot and told Lucy you should keep weight off it for at least 24 hours before sending you on your way again. Your sister knew you would be stubborn about letting her help you so she quickly grabbed you before you could slide down from the table and carried you down the hall
“Lucy let me down” you yelled annoyed as your sister carried you into the common room
“I will...” Lucy said calmly looking for a place to dispose you “Stop wriggling”
“Now...” you grunted trying to get out of your sisters hold
“No...” Lucy grunted back “Kei help”
“Just put her down on the beanbag” the blonde said already coming over
“Keira...” you whined loudly
“Oh Bitsy... what have you done now?” Keira sighed seeing your taped up foot
“Toons just doesn't know how to bowl” you huffed crossing your arms over your chest
“I TOLD you to be careful” the blonde scolded
“I WAS... I stood behind her... ball needs to go forward.. not my fault she doesn't understand the rules” you grumbled back
“I'm really sorry” Tooney said from the table where she got placed down by Mary “gently” (gently means death glare and pointed finger)
“I know you are Toons” you grinned “You got me donut”
“Excuse me??” Keira exclaimed looking at your sister annoyed
“She was good... she deserves one” Lucy defended herself knowing by Keiras look that the blonde didn't agree
“Just like always Lucia” Keira snarled “You don't have to deal with her when she gets all hyperactive because of the sugar – you just sleep or disappear”
“I'll be good Kei... I promise” you said quickly not wanting that Keira and Lucy fight
“I know you Bitsy... you won't... so you can have your donut... tomorrow... and in small pieces” the blonde said strictly
“But...” you started but got shut down immediately by Keiras killer glare “Can I play Lego with Tooney?” you asked instead sheepishly
“You hate Lego” the blonde answered as a matter of fact
“There's nothing else to do” you whined
“You can just leave your ass seated for a hot minute” Keira sighed loudly throwing her arms in the air annoyed
“That's boring” you whined making grabby hands towards Keira
“Seriously Bitsy.... you and Tooney are a guaranteed headache” the blonde said but helped you up nonetheless
“y/n... Tooney... you up for some media contend?” a voice suddenly asked from the door
“YES!!” you and Tooney exclaimed quickly as you tried to hobble away from Keiras prying hands as quick as possible
“Great... we have something fun planned...” the man you named “edit” (because he edits all the contend for the Lionesses social media) grinned widely
“You need my approval” Lucy yelled out just as you and Toons slipped through the door letting it fall shut loudly
“Okay guys... first you gonna introduce yourself and then we gonna explain what you have to do” edit says as if you two did media for the first time
“We know how this works Steve” Ella rolled her eyes
“Okay... then... go” the black haired man said
“Hi guys... I'm Ella Toone” Tooney smiled brightly
“.. and I'm the smarter and better looking Bronze” you grinned into the camera
“You have a name you twat” Ella said hitting your shoulder
“I know I do... but I AM the smarter and better looking Bronze” you huffed back shoving Ella so she nearly fell of the chair
“Okay... so here's what you two will do today” one of the media guys explained from the background “Ella we going to blindfold you and we play a little taste test”
“Why am I getting blindfolded??” Tooney whined loudly while you grinned
“Because you so ugly they don't want their lenses to crack” you laughed
“Shut up” Ella shoved you hard pushing you successfully off your chair and you took the table down with you.
Tooney looked down at you shocked but a second later both of you exploded laughing
“Oh god... we should've paired someone else” one of the media guys said desperately already seeing this go horribly wrong
The staff help you up again and set up the table again before giving you a Lionesses scarf and tell you to cover Ellas eyes with it. After you done your bit and actually tested that Toons really doesn't see anything by pretending to hit her multiple times you grinned happily back into the camera
“What now?” you asked excited as you got handed a take out box
“Now you just have to feed that to Tooney and she has to guess what it is” edit says pointing to the box
You opened the box looked inside and immediately gagged loudly before closing it again.
“What?? What is it??” Ella asked alarmed
You opened the box again and now even just the smell resulted in you gagging even louder (the gag that comes from way down) – you felt like you nearly need to vomit
“y/n... you can't do that... stop gagging” Tooney said seriously already feeling her stomach tighten
“Sorry... but... no... no” you said again pulling your shirt over your nose heaving again
“STOP IIIIIT” Ella whined
“This stuff is making me heave... I can't stop” you gagged again turning away from the take out box “I swear Toons... I would be livid if they made me eat that...”
“Stoooop” Ella now whined desperately “You can't say shit like that and expect me to eat whatever it is”
“Okay... okay...” you breathed deeply reassuring – not Ella but yourself “okay... this isn't gonna be nice okay Toons... just... swallow it... don't taste it just swallow it down... ready?” you asked having a little bit of the brown substance on a wooden spoon
“Fuck me” Toons looked unsure
“Trust me Toons... just... down” you said unsure as you lined up the spoon with roughly Ellas mouth
“But...” as soon as Ella opened her mouth you shoved the spoon into her mouth pulling it out a second later
“Get that away from me” you pushed the take out box harshly so it nearly tumbles off the table before looking at Ella again who actually started to chew a little bit
“Toons... just swallow it... you're not a fucking gourmet” you exclaimed disgusted
“What is it?” Ella asked trying to guess the right flavor
“It's dog food I swear... it looks like the stuff Lucy gives Narla... Caesars or something” you said starting to heave again
“It's not...” Tooney said convinced “It's pâté... or something”
“THAT'S Pâté?” you asked confused since you were sure it was dog food
“It's not Pâté” one of the guys said from behind the camera
“IT'S NOT???!!!” Ella screeched
“Told you... it's dog food” you said offhandly
“It's chicken paste” the guy said
“Oh... oh... it's not bad actually” Tooney said nodding
“No... if you ever bring that near me again I'll break you legs” you gagged loudly again
Half an hour later the two of you left the media room and Tooney helped you hobble down the hallway.
“I swear Toons... it look like dog food” you mumbled needing to concentrate on your good foot
“But it was tasty” the brown haired girl said softly as she held you upright
“Hey” suddenly someone stood in your way
You looked up to see your girlfriend leaning casually against the wall
“Need a lift?” she smiled at you softly
“I would take a ride too” you winked and this time it was Ella who gagged loudly
"You know... I'm just gonna call you Georgiaswifey from now on" Tooney huffed as she helped you onto your girlfriends back
(if you want to see the inspirational video to that media moment of bb and Tooney...
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C0M5xD0oapm/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==)
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girlgenius1111 · 9 months
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waiting room
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alexia breaks up with you for reasons you don't understand. she only realizes her mistake when she thinks she's going to lose you.
You thought about it every second, for days. It didn't make sense, why Alexia had broken up with you. Her reasoning was completely unclear, she stumbled through the breakup, spewing cliches. It didn't matter though, not really. She'd broken up with you, and that was it. All you could do was focus on football, take training one day at a time. Seeing her every day, stony faced, was indescribably painful.
No one on the team really understood what had happened to the both of you, which really just made things easier. There were no sides chosen, you simply coexisted.
You pushed all thoughts of her out of your head, focusing on warm ups. It was hard; she looked so stunning in the warm up jersey, blonde hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, and you could have sworn that you kept catching her looking at you. You needed to focus though.
The game wasn't supposed to be a tough one, and it remained a boring one well into the second half. There wasn't much time left when you went down. You jumped in the air for a header, and another body had collided with you, shoulder hitting your head, sending you slamming back down to the ground. You were conscious after the first hit, but when you made contact with the ground, your head banging down with a sickening thud, everything went black.
Alexia was sprinting across the field to you before the whistle had even blown, panic coursing through her veins. She was the first one to you, somehow, collapsing onto her knees next to your limp form.
"Y/n! Can you hear me?" Alexia pleaded, hands fluttering uselessly above your body, terrified to touch you. You didn't react at the sound of her voice, not moving a muscle. You were on your side, face pressed into the grass. "Amor, please," Alexia said, not caring if people heard, not caring if you weren't together, not caring about anything except you being okay. The physios were arriving, and someone was tugging her away from you. Mariona held her back, as the midfielder stared helplessly at you.
The physios were worried, and they were never worried. You still weren't moving, and Alexia thought she was going to lose her mind. All she could do was watch.
Watch as they brought the stretcher out, the neck brace. Watch as they carefully lifted you onto it. The game was completely forgotten, the noise of the stadium reduced to static in her ears. She willed you, with everything in her, to open your eyes, to move, to do anything. You didn't, though, remaining completely motionless as they moved you off the field.
"Ale,"
She turned, belatedly realizing that Mario was talking to her.
"Do you need to go off?" she asked. She knew her captain well, and could tell that Alexia wasn't mentally on the field anymore. Her brain had gone with you, following you down the tunnel.
"What if she's not okay," Alexia replied, completely disregarding the question asked to her. At that, Mario motioned to the sidelines, and Jona nodded in understanding.
"She's gonna be fine, she's tough. Go off the field, go check on her," Alexia didn't know when Marta had arrived next to her, but there she was, tugging the captain's armband off the blonde, and gently nudging her to the sidelines.
Alexia looked lost as she walked off the field, almost dazed. She bypassed the bench completely, walking down the tunnel after you. Jana and Mapi were waiting there, Mapi on her crutches. Alexia didn't even see them, not really, mind focused only on finding you.
Jana grabbed her captain's arm softly, drawing Alexia's attention to the brunette. "They're taking her to the hospital. If we go now, we'll get there just after the ambulance," Jana told her. Alexia nodded, not saying a word, beginning to walk briskly to the parking lot. She was still in her kit, still in her boots, but she would be damned if you had to sit in the hospital alone for any amount of time.
What if you weren't okay? She'd messed everything up, ruined it all. She'd let her insecurity take over, convinced herself that she wasn't good enough for you, pushed you away despite your insistence that she was all you wanted. She'd broken up with you for nothing, and now you were.... hurt? She didn't even know. All she knew was that the last thing she'd said to you had been a monotone, half assed explanation. It had been a lie. She shouldn't have done it. She loved you, she understood that now more than she ever had. What if you weren't okay?
-----
You became aware of a steady pounding in your head. Your mouth felt dry, and your body felt stiff. Still, you were floating somewhere in between being awake and being asleep, and you could hear the machines beeping around you. Opening your eyes seemed like a monumental task, so instead, you focused on the way you felt.
You weren't quite sure what had happened. The last thing you remembered was jumping for a header, and then... nothing. Your head hurt, though, that was for sure. You tried to shift your fingers and your toes, suddenly terrified that you were paralyzed. They twitched under you, though, and you could feel the seam of the sock on your toes, and the tight grip your hand was in.
"She moved her hand," a voice said. Alexia. She sounded exhausted, terrified. She squeezed your hand, and you heard shuffling in the room.
"Amor, can you hear me?" she asked. Amor? You were pretty sure she'd broken up with you. Amusingly, this thought seemed to spur you through the last dregs of sleep, and you forced your eyes open. Alexia's face was inches from yours, and if you weren't too busy groaning in pain as the light hit your eyes, you would have been startled.
"Oh god, you're awake. Thank god. How do you feel?" Alexia spoke, a hand coming up to lightly, lightly, stroke your face.
You cleared your throat. "Didn't you dump me?" you rasped, looking at her in confusion. She let out a watery laugh that turned into a sob, before she buried her head into your abdomen, blankets muffling her cries. You looked around, bewildered at her behavior. You noticed the others in the room, then, Ingrid and Mapi, Marta and Patri, as Mapi placed a hand on Alexia's trembling back, rolling her eyes.
"She's been like this for the past 2 days," Mapi said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. You just blinked at her. 2 days? You'd been out for 2 days? Alexia was still crying, though, and the sound was cracking your chest open, hurting more than your head did. Placing a gentle hand on her head, you called her name.
"Ale, honey? Are you alright?" Her head snapped up. She looked like a mess. The most beautiful mess you'd ever seen, but still. She had tear tracks staining her face, bags under her eyes, and her lip was trembling pitifully.
"Am I alright? You've been in a coma for 2 days, and you're asking me if i'm alright?" she asked, seemingly baffled by your question. Mapi nodded to the other girls, tilting her head towards the door. They all rose, leaving you and Alexia in the room by yourselves. You were going to respond to her, assure her that you were fine, but she was talking before you could get any words out.
"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. I shouldn't have broken up with you, I didn't mean it. I got all in my head, and I was worried I couldn't give you what you deserved, and I was trying to protect you, and then you went down, and I couldn't even function. I can't live without you, y/n, and I'm so sorry," she said the words rushed, as if worried you were going to cut her off, not let her finish.
You didn't say anything, the new information entering your currently very slow moving brain. Alexia's hands were wrapped in the blanket, and tears were pouring down her cheeks, yet she remained silent, giving you time to process.
"You... you broke up with me because you didn't think you were good enough for me?" You asked finally, working hard to keep your voice neutral. It was the most preposterous thing you'd ever heard, truly. Alexia nodded, not trusting her voice.
"That is one of the stupidest things i've ever heard. Seriously idiotic, Alexia. I thought I made it clear, I thought you knew that I loved you, that I only wanted you. You've always been enough for me," you told her. You knew that you should probably be mad at her, but she looked so broken, and her reasoning for breaking up with you made your heart ache for her. You couldn't be mad, not at her.
"Loved?" she asked quietly, referring to the past tense with which you'd phrased your sentence.
"Love," you corrected. "I didn't get hit hard enough to stop loving you." She smiled weakly at you, through her tears, before dropping her head back down to rest against your stomach. You ran your fingers through her hair, detangling gently as you went, and she sighed contentedly at your motions.
"I was so worried," she mumbled into you.
"What happened anyway?" you asked, only really caring to know now that Alexia had stopped crying. She picked her head up, realizing she'd given you no information on your condition.
"You hit your head. Hard. Twice. You have a concussion, and your brain swelled, and they almost had to do brain surgery, but it improved," she told you, and you could feel the worry that had had her heart in it's clenched fist loosening as she looked at you.
"When can I play again?" you asked and she snorted, because of course, that's what you were thinking about.
"The doctors say a few months, but I'm not sure I'm letting you out of the house ever again unless you're wrapped in bubble wrap."
"No," you said, "you just can't break up with me again, and I won't need to go getting major head injuries to bring you to your senses."
She laughed then, a real laugh, a real smile adorning her face. She leaned in, placing her lips on yours ever so gently, and you could feel her smiling still against your face.
"I love you," you whispered against her lips, and she whispered it back, leaning her forehead against yours. You'd be fine. You could have any injury, really, and be fine, as long as you had Alexia.
-----
slightly different from the request, but i hope you liked it :)
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 month
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one free pass for the grumpy!logan and overprotective brother!wade plot bunny 🤝🐇
"So," Vanessa hummed, watching you stir pans, "how was the date you went on?"
"He stood me up," you shrug. "I did get some really good gyoza though-"
"Sweetie."
You shrug again. "It's not the first time. And let's face it. It won't be the last. I write romance books. I don't live them."
Vanessa gave you a look but kept her commentary to herself. The last few years had been hard on everyone. You'd thought your big brother was dead right along next to her. You'd been in the thick of it even though you were trying to start college. Still just a kid. And in a lot of ways you were her rock- and a link to Wade when he was gone.
"I don't want to spend my whole life like our mom. Just like Wade doesn't want to be our dad, Nessa." You shake your head like you're banishing a thought and turn off the stove. "Let's fucking eat. I'm starving."
"This looks incredible. I have sex dreams less erotic than this."
"I heard that, Ow," Wade said, clutching his heart.
Vanessa shrugged and poured stroganoff into a bowl before shoving it into his hands, "Go be useful. Y/N did the hard part."
"Logan," you call, "I know you probably don't do wine, I got beer if you want that instead?"
"I uh- thanks," he said, shuffling to the table, offering Trigger his hand to smell when the dog shot him a look. He sniffed it and shot him a distinctly dirty look before walking away to re-glue himself to your side. Good dog, he thought.
"No assigned seating here, Logi-bear," Wade said, taking a seat next to Vanessa as he finished putting portions on plates- leaving Logan nowhere to sit but next to you since he'd put Mary in the other empty spot.
He nodded and pulled out a chair and looked towards the kitchen. He could hear you still rattling around and the sound of a knife slicing through something. And then a clatter "Fuck!"
Wade was out of his seat in a second and in the kitchen, "What'd you do- Holy shit biscuits!"
"It's fine I just-"
"Where d'you keep you towels?" he asked, rifling through the drawers and throwing things around.
"Next to the sink, Christ, it's not that bad-"
When you walk around the corner with Wade's arm around your shoulder, Logan blinked, blood-spattered your shirt and your pants. For "Not that bad" it looked like you might have cut your fucking hand off.
"I'll get some Ice," Vanessa said, standing up, "Logan, keep pressure on that for a second?"
Logan nodded, "Easy bleeder?" he ventured. You weren't phased enough about it for this to be new.
You nod and sigh, letting him look at your hand. "I've done worse," you muse. "He's so fucking dramatic." A thud makes you look away from the wound and Logan wrapped it to press on it carefully. "I swear if they're fucking in my kitchen again-"
"We're not," Vanessa said returning with an icepack, "I dropped the ice cream trying to find the ice."
"And Wade is-"
"Debating on if You'd want the staple gun or just super glue," he answered.
"There's bandages under the sink you degenerate!"
"Ooo, secrets," Wade said, dropping the stuff he was holding and heading towards the bathroom.
"Nessa," you plead.
"I'll go get him," she said rolling her eyes.
Logan exhaled through his nose and adjusted the ice on your hand. "I think you'll live, kid."
"Probably. I can hold this, your dinner is getting cold-"
Logan snorted, "Not a complete animal. Wouldn't be polite to eat while my hostess is bleeding out."
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deafsignifcantother · 1 month
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annoying alastor
♥ summary: you wake up too early for your own liking and end up spending your time distracting alastor from his morning paper ♥ relationships: alastor x g/n reader who wears hearing aids ♥ word count: 600 ♥ reader details: reader looks just like a human, they have demonic powers though and uses them to fuck with people, alastor likes them teehee awww. ♥ notes: story is 100% spoken dialogue, this is for the people who liked my other drabble
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You are kinda piece of shit, though not intentionally of course. Usually not. But sometimes you get bored, and seeing demons as strong as Alastor look at you with pure annoyance can be fun. He'd never hurt you, but god does he want to sometimes.
Things like taking off your hearing aids when he's trying to talk to you and walking away gets under his skin. Or when you pretend they aren't even on and ignore him before responding to someone else. But occasionally, it's less simple.
"I like your animal features." You lean against the couch where he sits, crossing your arms while perched. He holds the morning paper in his hands, not looking back at you. He does tense, though, painfully aware of your hands and where they might be. But you don't touch him. You stand there quietly, looking over his shoulder, your presence an itch. He can feel your breath when you lean in. You hum. It's a simple noise, and he turns to look at you.
You're gone.
Then he hears your voice next to him, opposite where his head is facing. "I wish I had some."
He closes his eyes. So this is how his morning is going to be. He turns to you again, staring into your innocent eyes. They almost captivate him. Almost.
He slightly shakes his head, looking back at his paper. "They're nothing special, darling."
"I could have been a deer."
He doesn't look back at you.
You add, finally capturing his attention. "We're matching."
And when he meets your eye, he flinches back. You have a pair of deer ears, the same color as your hair, perched on the top of your head, facing him. They even twitch.
He scrunches his nose, unimpressed.
You hum again. "Or a cat."
The ears on your head morph into cat ears, and a tail even peaks through your pants and wraps around your leg. But the features disappeared as quickly as they came. "A spider?" Three eyes open on your cheek.
His head whips back down, his eyebrows furrowed.
Your voice comes to his other ear. "Scary, huh?"  
The eyes are gone as if they never formed. Alastor tilts his head, turning to your changed position and squinting at you. Your theatrics are fun when you pull them on somebody else, but sadly, he is the only person awake.
"Are you usually this bothersome, or am I special?" He asks, rummaging through his memory. To his displeasure, you place a hand on the newspaper and push it down slowly, rendering it unreadable.
"You're special."
He makes a noise similar to a grunt. "And why are you up this early?"
"Early bird gets the worm."
"The second mouse gets the cheese, dear."
"Nice, I like that, that's funny." You smile, and in response, his smile tightens. You lean in. "Can you read me the paper? I wanna know stuff too."
His gaze is locked on yours, unwavering. If you're going to stay quiet through it, then maybe, but how likely is that? While at the same time, you don't have the habit of interrupting. Beyond the pestering, you are quite polite. You hold doors open for Charlie, and you actually pay attention to Angel's disgusting stories.
Alastor sighs, a hand going to the back of the couch, inviting you in. You are quick to take the place next to him as he wraps his arm around you to hold the other side of the newspaper. He sets the page in place with a small tightening grip and begins reading. But once he focused away from you, you let your ears melt into your skin, and the hearing aids drop; you sneakily catch them and hold them in your lap. You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Mission accomplished.
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oweninadaydream · 10 months
Text
𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫
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𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.
𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader
𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2K
𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending (in part 2), (not really) unrequited love?, insecure reader, jealousy, TW: sexual exploitation (second story).
𝓪/𝓷 : This is my first time writing for Finnick and I'm so exited for you guys to read it!!! Hope you enjoy this fic :) Part two is already posted!!! You can find it here. If there are any mistakes I'm sorry , English is not my first language.
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𝟣. 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 
The quietness of the night was only being disturbed by the sound of crickets and mockingbirds. The cold breeze was the only thing keeping you awake. Well, that and Finnick. You were seated next to him on the porch of your house which was right next to his. Three years had passed since you won the 67th Hunger Games and you still weren't used to the gloomy sight that was Victors Village, especially not at night, when the solitude and darkness of the streets made you remember things you thought (or hoped) were long gone in your memory but that deep down you knew would always haunt you, until the day you died.
Finnick scooted closer in order to share his blanket with you "Stop being so prideful, I can see you shaking" he scolded you for being so stubborn. " I did it on purpose, I just wanted to make you cuddle me" you joked, as it was normal in your friendship.
He had been your mentor the year you were reaped , you got along well but didn't become that close then. You knew that those were his second games as a mentor and you could feel that he wasn't emotionally prepared to bond with you just to see you die days later. Still, he prepared you the best way he knew and was always kind towards you. After you emerged victorious from that nightmare, the Capitol decided to profit off of your charm ; you were too young, scared and lost, just like Finnick once had been (and still was). That's when he took you under his wing , and you would forever feel grateful for that.
He was your rock, your light within the dark, your safe person and he saw you as his happy place, someone he could rely on, his partner in crime and the person with whom he shared his deepest thoughts, his dreams, his nightmares and hopes for an utopian future. Finding each other seemed something simply destined to be. You needed each other in ways that no one else could wrap their head around.
Despite having that special and heartwarming relationship with him, you wanted more. You were utterly and madly in love with him. Your infatuation had begun during training and only grew stronger after he approached you after the games. The thing between you was so fragile, so special that you had never thought of confessing your love. The possibility of driving him away caused your heart a kind of ache worse than any stab received back in the Arena. Your feelings felt selfish, how could you want more? Your greedy passion would ruin everything (or so you thought), so you settled for what you had.
On the inside, you knew he wasn't the kind of man that would dismiss your feelings rudely and that he would continue to consider you his friend , but it just wouldn't be the same, and seeing your dynamic change in such a way would be a more fatal fate than dying at the games.
" The way they're shining, how beautiful" he quietly mumbled loud enough for you to hear. "I know, the stars look unreal tonight" you agreed while staring completely mesmerized to the night sky. "I was looking at your eyes" you turned to see that he wasn't in fact stargazing like you were. You were out of words. He was usually flirty and he never ran out of lovely words to dedicate to you, but you still reacted as if it were the first time. "Charming as always, dear" you replied as you rested your head on his chest. He moved so you could be more comfortable and you wanted to stop time at that exact moment.
" Thank you for always being there for me" he said in a more serious tone. " You know that I'd do anything for you. Are you okay? Where is this coming from?" you asked with a worried frown adorning your face. "These past few days apart have been rough and it made me appreciate you more" he confessed timidly. How privileged were you to be able to see him in his most vulnerable state. The moon, his hands holding yours, the heat you felt on your face, it was simply too much.
"FINNICK!" a blood-curdling scream came on the scene, startling you both. He quickly stood, as he had already identified the person behind such a yell. "ANNIE?!?!? WHAT'S WRONG?!?!?"
Annie was the victor of the last Hunger Games. She had been mentored by Finnick just like you, but unlike with you, Finnick had rapidly grown fond of her ever since they first met. You knew you shouldn't have thought too much of it, but your mind was your worst enemy. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining a very near future where he chose her over you , leaving you behind and all alone in this world. You liked her : she was kind, delicate but strong and very beautiful, but for those very same reasons you were becoming jealous of her and her chances of getting together with your best friend.
Annie appeared in front of your porch wrapped in a blanket and trembling while sobbing. " They're gonna get me" "Hey hey Annie c'mon, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, you know I'll make sure of it" How caring was Finnick, it was just natural for him to become the protector in every situation. "O-okay" Annie said with little confidence in her voice "Would you stay with me tonight? I had a really bad nightmare" her doe eyes had the reflection of the full moon in them ; it truly was a breath-stealing sight "Sure thing darling, I'll be there in a second, wait for me at home, all right? It's okay " his soothing voiced and calmed her down enough to return to her house by herself.
He turned around to look at you "I'm sorry, I have to go" "I know, Finnick, it's okay" you assured him, even though you were shocked by the term of endearment used for her, as it took Finnick quite a while to refer to you as sweetheart, honey or your favorite, love.
What was wrong with you? That poor girl had just got out of the games and was terrified out of her mind after dreaming about a traumatic experience she had recently been through (just like you did in you day) and the only thing you could think about was how jealous you were because she was being comforted by Finnick in such an intimate and caring way, because she had his full attention and she would be the one lured to sleep by his calloused hands running through her hair that night. You were not thinking logically and you lost control of your actions.
"Hey" you shouted to catch his attention, as he had already begun to leave towards Annie's house "I love you Finn, I just wanted you to know" you confessed as your froze in place . You told each other how much you loved each other all the time, but it had never been like this : not under that light, not with all that sentiment in your eyes and definitely not with such a voice tone. It was clearly a confession and you could't believe what you had just done.
He stared and smiled, transmitting you his appreciation for such kind words and he continued the way to his destination. Oh fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He hadn't interpreted your words as you spilling your guts about your feelings, it was just a friendly 'I love you' to him. Annie was perfect for him, you could never give him that sweet innocent love you believed Finnick deserved. The anxiety quickly transformed into anguish and you went back inside to prepare yourself for a night full of tears and stupid hypothetical scenarios about them. About him.
𝟤. 𝐼𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒
Looking around the enormous gardens you couldn't spot a single person you genuinely cared about. This Capitol party, as the previous ones, were filled with members of high society that gazed at you and the rest of victors as if you were exotic wild animals.
Reaching your secret hiding spot, you felt yourself letting your guard down. Even if distracted, you noticed the warm hand on your shoulder. You spun on your heels to identify the person behind that unexpected and yet comforting touch. Of course, Finnick Odair. Your confident, your best friend, your protector and the love of your life (role that's he's unaware of). "Shit Finnick, don't do that!" you playfully reprimanded him while smacking his chest. He pretended to be hurting but ended up laughing at your little tantrum.
"Wow, Cinna has outdone himself, you look charming my dear" he said as he gently took your hand to make you spin and admire the fine clothes you were dressed in that evening. Based on the pink blush that adorned his cheeks you quickly arrived to the conclusion that he was far from being sober and you didn't blame him, these events were unbearable if not intoxicated. "You're not bad yourself, Odair" .
The two of you danced, talked, drank more than you'd be able to remember the next day and flirted, a lot. Your heart couldn't take one more touch nor one more compliment from this man . "There's something you're not telling me, I can see it in your pretty face" he commented while hugging you from behind. He'd always known everything about you, so that remark was not surprising. Still, your heart started beating at an alarming speed and you felt the sweat coming out from your shaky hands.
What if you told him? Based on the spark in his eyes during the party you could only assume he was at least interested in you as more than a friend. You were intoxicated and wrapped between his arms, what if you just told him? "I... I love... you..." you mumbled while closing your eyes as if that would make you invisible to him. The deafening silence brought out your worst fear : rejection. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. You've fucked up real bad this time. You turned around to face him and get this done as fast as possible.
That's when you realized : he hadn't heard you confessing your most cherished secret. You had an opportunity to go back in time, to act as if nothing had happened. You couldn't risk losing him. You locked eyes with him and Finnick tilted his head to the side in drunken confusion as he hadn't caught on to what you had so shyly whispered. Smiling sympathetically you shook your head as if to not give importance to what had been previously said. He didn't give too much though to your dismissive answer. "Would you like another drink, love?" His characteristic smirk accompanied the proposal perfectly, inviting you to give in ; as always, you couldn't deny him anything.
Before you had the chance to approach the drinks table , one of Finnick's regular clients grabbed him by the waist and whispered something into his right ear. His eyes suddenly darkened and his once relaxed features stiffened significantly. You already knew what was about to happen. You were no stranger to the services President Snow forced him to provide to Panem's elite. In fact, you were another of the poor miserable souls in charge of satisfying every desire of anyone who was wealthy enough to afford the luxury of laying with a victor.
Telling the wealthy woman to wait at their usual meeting place, he shook her off. Finnick approached you, feeling guilty and not wanting to part from your side. After a single chaste kiss on your left cheek, he left in the same direction as his client. You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding and tried to prevent the tears from falling. As common as this was, it never got easier for neither of you.
Later that night you found yourself in a similar position as Finnick. The man caressing your body didn't pay any attention to the way you were spacing out and you felt thankful for that. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying over and over again the moment you almost told Finnick how in love you were with him and wondering what would have happened if you had had the courage to repeat those three words just a little bit louder . But it doesn't matter, not anymore. He was drunk and so were you, nothing sincere would have come out of his mouth at that time and you highly doubt sober him would have corresponded your feelings anyway. If only things were different.
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